Thirteen O'Clock
by Labyrinthine Heart
Summary: Serena is no ordinary girl. Tainted with goblin magic after her father wished her away as an infant, she has vowed that the Goblin King will not harm another mortal child even if it means she must spend an eternity in the Labyrinth fighting him.
1. Prologue: Hatchling

**Prologue: Hatchling **

The first stroke of the clock made Mikhail cringe, but he shook his head and gathered himself to try again. "Give her back to me!"

"But you asked me to take her. I have only done what you wanted," the Goblin King told him in a tone that accused him of being thoroughly unreasonable. The clock continued to strike: three, four… "I have done you a favor, Mikhail. Go home to your wife. Lily is waiting for you. Now you will have all the time in the world to be with her, as you have not these last months. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Not like this!" Mikhail sobbed. "I have come all this way, through pits and mazes and monsters and Gods know what else. I have done exactly as you said. For the love of the Light, give me my daughter!" His hands reached out of their own accord, begging, pleading.

"Go home, Mikhail. Forget her."

"No!" he shrieked. "No! You can't tell me to forget. You can't keep her from me. You have no power over me!" The last words were nearly drowned out by the final stroke of thirteen.

The Goblin King winced, and then fell back. Mikhail was falling as well, tumbling downward as snowy wings beat around his head… and then he was standing in his own home, as a white owl drifted silently out the open door.

He looked down. In his arms was an infant, wrapped in a patchwork quilt that had seen too many years of use. She regarded him solemnly, sucking on her fist. He shut the door, then barred it for good measure and sat heavily in a rough wooden chair, the only piece of furniture he had ever owned. He cradled the child, holding her to him as though he would never let go, staring at her as though he never wished to see anything else.

Then he gasped. Her eyes… something was wrong with her eyes… He threw more wood onto the coals in the fireplace, prodding them to get a flame going, and held her so that the light shone on her face. Her eyes… they had been quite a pale blue before, like Lily's—like his own. And now…

"Green. They're green," he mumbled to himself, staring with anguish at the child's face. "What happened? What did he do? What has he done to you, Serena?"

--------

Jareth sat at his window, staring out over the city and the Labyrinth, absently spinning a crystal in his hand. It had been such a close thing. Imagine someone saying the words at _exactly_ thirteen o'clock! No one, even he, could have said whether the man had finished before or after the final stroke—and if it truly had been the same moment, was the man within the time limit? Perhaps the king could have said that the baby had to be rescued before the stroke of thirteen to be returned, or even before the first bell. He was the rule-maker in this game, was he not?

Jareth sighed, and conjured a second crystal; the two orbited each other smoothly in his palm. He was a goblin of his word. He wasn't sure he had won the girl fairly, so it wouldn't have been right to keep her. She was too young to make a proper goblin, anyway; usually he wouldn't have taken a child under a year old, but he was called on less and less as time went by, and he had to take what he could get.

A third crystal found its way to his hand, and began alternately spinning and hopping over the first two. If only it wasn't so hard for goblins to bear children of their own… then he wouldn't have to resort to transforming human children. It was almost more trouble than it was worth, and he was always exhausted afterward, even when the humans _didn't_ say the spell to break his power…

A fourth crystal joined the pile, forming a revolving pyramid in his hand, and he found himself short of breath. It would be some time before he recovered from tonight. And then he would just have to wait until he was called on again—perhaps to add to the ranks of his loyal subjects, perhaps to take another beating. And in between, there were the many affairs of his little kingdom to attend to: tiresome audiences to sit through, depressing reports to read, taxes to levy... He sighed.

Maybe he would hold a ball, if he could find the time. Jareth couldn't remember the last time there'd been a real ball—one that took place outside of his crystals, where he didn't have to worry about keeping some human girl distracted and could actually enjoy himself. Just one dance with a normal goblin, one love song with real feeling in it, one night of carefree revels would surely keep him sane for at least another decade—but Jareth doubted he would have such a chance.

He gritted his teeth, and a fifth crystal slid smoothly into the base of the pyramid. "I ought to just appoint a steward to handle these things. I could take a holiday and travel in the human world for a century or two. I could even abdicate and leave forever…"

But he wouldn't, of course. He was needed here. His people needed him. More to the point, the Labyrinth needed him.

Even he could see it was coming apart at the seams; without his magic to keep it together, the castle itself would collapse in a matter of weeks. He had to pour all his energy into it just to keep it standing, while his kingdom languished in famine and decay, and while the number of goblins dwindled every year…

It would never end, not until he was dead and in the ground.

Grimly, Jareth tilted his hand, and watched as the crystals rolled down, one by one. They fell outside the window, down past the wall, and onto the stones of the courtyard, where they shattered into thousands of pieces. The pieces split into the tiniest of fragments, which broke again until they had collapsed into dust.

The wind stirred the glittering particles, then picked them up and carried them out into the Labyrinth.

Jareth turned away and started toward the throne room.


	2. Chapter one: Cygnet

**Chapter one: Cygnet**

"Serena! Serena, where are you?" Lily's voice was quickly growing annoyed. Serena sighed as she marked her place in her book. Her mother always chose the worst times to find extra chores for her; the ten-year-old hardly had any time to be alone. Lately, she found that she needed it more and more.

"I'm coming!" she called, as she carefully dusted off the back of her dress. The duck pond was the closest thing she had ever seen to a mirror, and she made use of it now—if she was dirty or disheveled, she would have to put up with her mother's attentions even longer. Brilliant green eyes in the cute, pudgy face of a toddler stared back at her, as tiny hands began to adjust her hair ribbon and fix a button. The book was tucked neatly under her arm, although that was difficult, considering their relative sizes.

She remembered a time when she was not small for her age—when she was a baby. But her growth had slowed more with each passing month, so that at the age of ten she looked like a three-year-old—and the effect showed no signs of reversing itself.

Serena no longer even tried to spend time with the other children of the village. Those of an age with her were impatient with her stubby legs and diminutive stature, and mortified of being seen with a 'baby'; and those who _looked_ her age didn't possess the vocabulary or the attention span for a decent game, let alone intelligent conversation.

She shook her head to dispel this oft-repeated thought as she walked down the dirt lane, past the other little thatched cottages, to her own house. Not a _home_. Small as she was, the place always felt cramped; the hut, the village, even the _kingdom _were not big enough to really hold her.

She paused once more at the door, wondering as always if she wanted to go in. Her mother would scold her for going off by herself

—'But what else am I supposed to do?' she thought—and for borrowing this book from old Bartlemy again. It was one of the very few books in the village, and certainly the most interesting, but her mother disapproved of a girl learning anything she didn't need in order to cook and keep house, including knowing her letters.

'Though how you learned is beyond me,' her mother would say in exasperation. She, of course, couldn't tell an alpha from an omega. And her father certainly hadn't taught her; he avoided Serena as much as he could without openly shunning her. But even if no one else chose to see, Serena saw, and understood.

Her father knew her differences from the rest of the village were his fault. He had wished her away, calling on unholy spirits to take her, and they had come and had changed her. In his mind, every unnatural thing about her was his own doing.

Of course he never spoke of it, even to his wife; he thought that no one knew.

But Serena remembered. She remembered the castle, with its old, worn stones and the windows looking out over a dilapidated city—and beyond, the Labyrinth. She remembered being held by a smelly, frightening goblin who made her cry—and how he had passed her to a lovely furry being almost like a cat with horns, which had quieted her, until the creature pinched her just to hear her scream again—and then the head goblin, that one who called himself a king, had taken her and tried to sing her to sleep.

Remembering brought a grimace to her face, and privately, Serena disagreed with her father. He was not to blame for her fate. The one who had brought this misery on her and her family, the one on whose head the whole matter lay, was the Goblin King. He had told her father that he could rescue her from becoming a goblin by getting through the Labyrinth, and her father had done exactly as he was told. Yet here she was—if not exactly a goblin, then not human either.

But she would make things right. Even if she were stuck this way, she would make sure that he never did the same to anyone else. She certainly had the tools for the job; it was not just her eyes and her mortality that the Goblin King had changed.

With this thought to steady her, she pushed the door open. Over the creak of the leather hinges, Lily called, "Serena, I need your help with supper. Could you poke the fire up a little, and then start peeling these potatoes?"

Serena sighed with relief. If her mother was cooking already, then she wouldn't notice the book. Slipping it under her bedroll, Serena went to join her mother in the second and last room of the cottage, which served for a kitchen.

She was met with the smells of baking flatbread and barley cakes, and the rhythmic thump of the one short leg of the table hitting the ground as her mother kneaded the dough. She was in flour up to her elbows, with more striped across her forehead and dusting the front of her patched apron. In a plain homespun dress of nondescript grey, with her hair in an untidy bun, Lily looked like the picture of an industrious housewife.

She glanced up as Serena entered. "The fire, dearheart, if you would," she said, briskly but not unkindly. That was the way with Lily—always practical. After all, how could the girl grow up to be a good housewife if all she did was idle about and dream her days away? It would be much more profitable for her to learn her way around a kitchen.

'As if I could get married, anyway,' Serena thought to herself as she rolled another log onto the fire, seeing as it was too large for her to actually lift. True, she was nearing the right age, but what man would take a woman who looked like a child? And a very strange child, at that.

Besides, a husband and children, even if such were possible, would spoil her plans for the future.

Her mother gave Serena a longer, considering look as the girl fetched the knife from the edge of the table. The poor instrument had never been the highest quality, but now the wooden handle was worn and cracked with age, and the blade was parchment-thin with too many sharpenings. But for now, it would do. Serena selected a potato from the small pile in the corner, rinsed it in the bucket by the back door, and carefully began to remove the skin. She had to be careful; her small hands were not suited either for the vegetable or the tool she was using.

Lily turned back to her baking, but she thumped the dough a little harder than was necessary, and a frown creased her brow. "Serena," she said, a bit too casually. "How is Thom?"

"Fine," Serena told her, keeping her eyes on her work. This was not a good start.

"And Summer and Laws? What news from them?"

"I don't know." She looked up now. Now was the time, if she could work up the nerve. "Mother… I haven't seen any of them since last Sabbath, at the chapel." She fidgeted a moment, then, in a rush, finished her thought. "And I'm not going to, not any more. Laws pushed me down while you were talking to his mama, and Humphrey and Matilde sat on me and wouldn't let me up. Thom and Summer just stood there and laughed." Her chin rose stubbornly. "I am different from them, and they know it. They think they can bully me—but I won't let them any more. I never want to see them again!"

Lily was silent for a long moment. "But you could play with Charlie and Ingred, couldn't you?"

"Mother, they're just babies. I look like one, too, but I'm ten years old!" Serena realized she was clutching the knife as though she would stab someone, and forced herself to relax her grip and moderate her tone. "I'd rather be by myself."

The silence that fell was profound. Serena didn't dare look up from her work; she finished her potato and started another, waiting for her mother to say something. Then she heard a sniffle. Shock brought her eyes to her mother's face, and she found that it was tearstained. "I—I don't know what else I can do," she said hollowly. "I don't know how to help you, Serena, and it pains me."

Hesitantly, Serena set down her knife and came to her mother's side. She took her hand and kissed it. "Don't worry. Things will come out right in the end."

'They just have to,' she told herself. 'Don't they?'


	3. Chapter two: Nightjar

**Chapter two: Nightjar**

Serena's hands trembled as she held them before her face, but she shoved her weariness to the back of her mind and fixed her gaze firmly on the surface of the stone. This time, surely…

Now it was the stone that was trembling, and Serena smiled inwardly at that. At least she could summon up her power reliably, after so much work to make it so.

Whether she could direct that power properly, though, was another matter entirely. This was not her first attempt this evening, but it would certainly be her last; she was too tired to continue much longer. Shaping stone was almost as difficult a task with magic as it would have been with physical tools.

Presently, bits began chipping themselves away from the main body of the rock, dropping from her hands, and she breathed a little easier seeing that it had started to work properly. The stone became round under her gaze, round and smooth, as the veins of green and blue that had been her reason for choosing this particular one became more pronounced.

Finally, she dropped her hands, exhausted but satisfied. The stone ball rolled a little away from her, now perfectly polished and shining in the moonlight.

It was the thirteenth. All she had to show for four months' worth of effort, sneaking out at night to sit alone in the shadow of the trees, returning in the small hours to collapse into her bed, were thirteen colored stone balls the size of her closed fist, stashed in a hollow stump.

But she didn't mind the time she had spent. Serena would give anything to get better control, to turn her strange power into a weapon to use against the one who had so injudiciously granted it to her. And time was cheap, for her. More than twenty years had passed since she and her father had returned from the Labyrinth, yet she still looked like a child, no older than six. She had all the time she needed.

Serena was certain that the stone balls were necessary. She had seen how the Goblin King used crystals for his magic; this was as close as she knew how to come. And she needed to come as close as she could; the only way she knew to get into the Labyrinth was by goblin magic, so her best hope was to imitate it.

How many stones did she need to complete the spell? The last time she had made such an attempt, there were seven. They had exploded, and one shard had narrowly missed taking out her eye. Before that she had tried five, which had flickered with light and then vanished with puffs of smoke that left her coughing for a week. Another time, she had tried four; they had rolled over feebly and one had cracked neatly in half. And the first time, she had used only one; it melted.

Now, though, she thought she had an answer. There were thirteen hours in the goblin's day, thirteen strokes of the clock that had sent her back to this world. The evil number, thirteen, was her best guess.

A troop of ants crawled over her bare foot, and she brushed them away absently. She had grown used to the attentions of the tiny creatures, these last years. Bugs loved her. Most of them liked to bite her, too. They seemed especially attracted to her when she had been working magic—as though they could smell it on her.

Larger creatures seemed to smell it as well, but they showed a different and, in Serena's opinion, much more sensible reaction to it. They hated her. She had long given up on ever being able to tend a flock of sheep, or pet a dog without being bitten; and one good kick from the village's tired old plough horse had been enough to make her avoid his pasture permanently. There was one good side effect—no birds or mice ever stole food from her mother's house any more. They were too afraid.

Serena sighed and reached out to pick up the ball. She had rested long enough. She climbed to her feet, wincing as she discovered that her legs had fallen asleep, and limped a few feet to the hollow stump, where she stowed the ball with the twelve others. She would try the actual spell when she was better rested.

And what if she failed yet again to make a gateway? She considered it tiredly as she made her way back to her home. There was one other method that she thought would succeed, but it might have dire consequences.

She could ask her father to call on the Goblin King once more. Then she would go under the king's power, at his mercy. But she would get there. And her options were few. If she failed this time…

No, not even then would she ask it of her father. He would be devastated to find that she remembered, that she knew what he had done. And he probably wouldn't agree to send her back to the Labyrinth, either; once was enough to teach him his lesson and to set his self-loathing in stone.

So it was up to her to transport herself. She had to magic her way into the Labyrinth. She just _had _to…

So lost in this though was she, that it took her several moments to realize that the door in front of her was not her own. It was too large, patterned with ornate curls of iron, and set in a wall of stone instead of wood. Dry, thorny vines grew around the edges, and a thin layer of glittering dust coated it along with everything else in sight.

Serena whirled around. Ugly, arid hills met her eyes, topped by dead-looking trees and dry, brittle weeds. A little way off from her was a small stone pool, filled with dirty yellowish water. Away to either side, extending into the distance, ran a towering wall lined with more vines, whose graceful white flowers only served to emphasize how dead and twisted the plants themselves appeared. Tiny creatures fluttered among the branches; at first she took them to be butterflies, until she realized that they were not swarming her and took a closer look. They did have gauzy insects' wings, but attached to the bodies of human children—fairies.

Then she blinked, and she was looking out at her own village: dirt lanes and tiny huts lying peacefully in the moonlight. There were no fairies in the air around her, only moths and gnats drifting steadily in her direction, and a mosquito whining by her ear.

Quickly, she turned and entered the house, barely remembering in time to close the door softly so as not to wake her parents. She crept to her corner and slid under the blankets, too tired to undress.

What had happened? That place, surely, was the Labyrinth; but had she really been there, or was it some sort of vision, or—she had to consider the possibility—was she finally going mad?

However long she pondered, she could come to no decision. Every explanation had its flaws. Her thoughts ran circles in her head, and she drifted into sleep and an uneasy dream of locked doors and dead hills. But sometime during the night, a thought came to her and stayed: she had touched the Labyrinth. Years of planning and preparation had come to and end. She was nearly there.

Serena was ready.


	4. Chapter three: Parrot

**Chapter three: Parrot**

She waited for the new moon—a new moon for a new beginning.

On the chosen night, Serena stood shivering with anticipation in the shadow of the trees. She wore her heavy winter gown over her light summer one; it would be best to have both, she thought, just in case the Labyrinth wasn't all as hot and dry as the entrance. In her pockets were the heel end of a loaf of bread from that day's baking, a clean handkerchief, some pretty feathers and stones (she had found they helped with some kinds of magic), a ball of string, a small bit of steel that she had bought from a peddler two years ago, and a flint knife she had made, sharp as any of metal and small enough to fit comfortably in her hand.

She sat down carefully. Around her, the thirteen stone balls lay evenly spaced along a circle she had drawn in the dirt. The orbs were varicolored and glinted wetly in the starlight. In between were a few more objects she thought would help—a white butterfly's wing, a ragged owl feather, a fool's mask from the summer festival, and a chunk of sparkling rock, among other things.

Serena took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to get up her nerve. If it didn't work—but it had to! She repeated this thought fiercely to herself. It would work, because otherwise the goblins would continue to do as they pleased with humans. She had to stop it. It was wrong.

Besides, she had almost entered the Labyrinth before, and that wasn't even on purpose. Now the spell was set up, ready for her magic to give it life.

She took another steadying breath, then let her eyes drift closed. Her power shone at her center, and she began drawing on it, giving it momentum until it flooded outward of its own accord. It caught on the stone balls and anchored itself; it would not go beyond the edge of her circle. That was a good sign.

A sudden breeze stirred her hair, and she brushed a mosquito away from her face, still keeping her eyes determinedly closed. It wasn't done. Not yet.

Slowly, her power absorbed itself into the thirteen stones. If her eyes had been open, she would have seen that they glowed like beacons in their respective colors—orange-red, cream, blue-grey, green, even a deep indigo gleam from an orb of black obsidian. Slowly her magic merged itself with the stones, until she had only the merest of threads to connect it to herself.

Then she tugged, and the power came flooding, spiraling back. The stones hummed, then rang, then keened with the intensity of the working. The air swirled around Serena, a reflection of her power's whirling; then the last vestiges of magic returned to their rest inside of her, and silence reigned.

For a moment, Serena didn't want to open her eyes. Then she shifted uncomfortably. Something prickled through her skirts. She put her hand down and felt… thorns?

She opened her eyes. A moonlit, windblown waste met her gaze, rising in hills to either side. The landscape was covered in stunted, twisted trees and ragged weeds. Before her, the land sank into a shallow valley, and in that valley…

She didn't know whether to laugh or scream or cry. The Labyrinth sprawled beneath her like some mangy beast, its maw gaping open to devour her as soon as she should come near enough. The twists and branches of the corridors, a thousand thousands of them, stretched for miles and, if she was not much mistaken, some sections were changing even under her eyes.

At the center, the Labyrinth sloped up to a misshapen head, and wore for a crown the twisted towers of the Goblin King's castle.

So this was it. She had found her way to the Undergound at last. A feral grin stretched across her face. The Goblin King was about to learn the price of his crimes—and if she had any say in the matter, the price would be steep indeed.

Serena climbed to her feet and dusted off the back of her dress, then started down the slope, placing her feet carefully. It would be the worst sort of irony to have come all this way and then to twist her ankle before she reached the entrance.

Then she was there, and she smiled again, wild with delight. The ironbound doors were just the same as she had seen in her vision of a few nights past—but this time, she was sure that what she saw was reality. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against whatever she might find inside, and stepped forward.

Serena tugged at the doors, but they wouldn't budge. After a few minutes of futile exertion, she threw up her hands and backed out of the doorway, contemplating the wall. It was tall, she mused, but those stones were fairly rough, and the vines might help…

She took firm hold of a branch and wedged her toe into a crack, starting the long climb upward. Here was yet another occasion when her size complicated things—if she were two feet taller, as she ought to be, the climb would have taken only half as long.

After a few minutes, Serena began to wonder if she would ever reach the top. She looked upward. Funny. Her goal seemed just as far away as ever. She looked down—

--and swore under her breath. The ground was only a few inches below her feet.

She shut her eyes and leaned her forehead against the stone. It was obviously some sort of spell, something to keep unwanted visitors out of the Labyrinth. After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes and started climbing determinedly, drawing on her own power. The stones around her rippled and buckled as her magic fought to find a hole in the enchantment, but she clung to the wall and hauled herself upward until, at last, her fingers found the edge of the last stone. One final scramble, and she lay down on the wide surface at the top of the wall, gasping for breath.

Fighting that spell had taken a lot out of her, and she hoped she wouldn't have to do it often. She rolled carefully onto her side to look at the maze below.

Maze, was it? A single stone corridor ran as far as she could see in both directions. Beyond it the passages did become tangled, but she couldn't see any way into that section, and she didn't feel up to climbing another wall like the first. How was she supposed to get through?

Then again, the spells might not be so powerful inside the Labyrinth, if it was true that they were meant only to keep intruders out. If that were so, Serena could probably handle one more climb. She sat up, then turned around and started feeling her way backward down the wall. She slipped near the bottom and fell the last two feet, but the worst of her injuries were a scraped knee and a bruised ego.

Brushing herself off—where did all this glitter come from, anyway?—Serena surveyed her surroundings. The corridor was empty except for a few broken twigs and dry leaves scattered on the ground. It did seem to continue forever into the distance, the blank walls unmarred by turns or openings. She hesitated only a moment, then crossed to the opposite wall and grabbed a convenient protrusion in the stone.

Serena climbed with vigor, simultaneously channeling her power outward to shove the spell aside as she had done the first time.

She wasn't expecting it to shove back.

The force of the spell's reaction threw her to the ground; fortunately, she had not had time to get very high, so her fall was a short one. She shook her head to clear sudden spots from her vision and a ringing from her ears, but only succeeded in making herself dizzy, and so settled for squeezing her eyes closed and resting her head on her knees for several minutes. Her entire body ached, and her stomach roiled; she wished to faint just to escape the sensation.

When she no longer felt like she might pass out at any moment, Serena climbed slowly to her feet and approached the wall again. Her hand rested lightly on the stone as she sent out a gentle pulse of power; the answering pulse gave her a painful shock that left her hand numb. She was not getting in that way.

Well, now that she thought about it, the Goblin King certainly wouldn't want anyone cheating their way through the Labyrinth. She would definitely have to rethink her plan; she would never be able to help anyone unless she had some advantage over the poor people that the goblins brought here against their will.

She turned around and found the door—it made her uncomfortable to be even in the outer layers of the Labyrinth, and she thought that her planning would best be done outside—but she quickly discovered that she could not open it from the inside any more than she had been able to from the outside. She was stuck.

"Well, no sense in standing around," she muttered sourly, and looked either way down the passage. Both ways seemed equally deserted, but she decided that the right side seemed a little brighter, so she started in that direction.

Several minutes later, she slowed her walk, then stopped altogether, leaning against the wall. Nothing was changing. She was getting nowhere. And she was starting to get hungry. She slid down and seated herself against the wall with a sigh, and began digging in her pocket for that crust of bread.

"'Allo."

Serena nearly jumped out of her skin as the voice spoke almost in her ear. She glanced around wildly, but she couldn't see anything. Then she caught sight of a splash of blue near her shoulder and, looking more closely, saw a small caterpillar wearing—what on earth?—a red scarf. "Hello," she said slowly.

"Are you all right, miss? You seem a bit lost." There was no doubt; the tiny being was speaking to her. But his large brown eyes were friendly, and he seemed concerned for her; besides, she reminded herself, this was the Labyrinth. Some things were bound to be odd.

"I am lost, a bit," she admitted. "I can't get out of this corridor—the gate won't open, and I don't know how to get deeper into the Labyrinth."

The worm smiled. "You just have to learn the right way to look, is all. Come inside, I'm sure the Missus would love to meet you." He nodded toward a small hole in the stone.

"Oh—no thank you. But what do you mean, the right way to look? I've been looking pretty hard, and I can't find any doorways or anything."

"Well, that's the problem, then. You need to look _soft_ to find your way around here." Seeing her confusion, he explained. "Things are not what they seem in this place. You can't trust your own eyes half the time, and you can't take anything for granted."

"I don't really understand," Serena said thoughtfully.

He nodded at the wall opposite them. "Do you see that wall?"

"Yes," Serena said, looking at it. It seemed like just an ordinary stretch of wall, but if the worm thought it would help…

"Well, it's not a wall. You just try walking through it." He smiled. "That's the easiest way."

Serena climbed to her feet, then glanced back at him. "Are you sure? That's not even the right direction—the castle is behind us…"

"Go on and try it then," the worm chuckled; then he paused. "Wait—you're going _toward_ the castle?"

Serena didn't hear; she was frowning in thought as she approached the wall. It still seemed quite ordinary, and very, very solid. Hesitantly, she put out her hands.

She felt only air.

"Wow!" She dropped her hands and turned, grinning to face the worm. "Thank you! I don't know if I could have found this on my own."

The worm nodded; then he sighed. "I suppose you'll be off, then? Everyone's in such a hurry when they pass here…"

The girl glanced over her shoulder and bit her lip, then shook her head. "No. I'm not in any rush."

The worm beamed. "Well, then, come inside and have a nice cup of tea, will you?"

"Oh—no, thank you," she said. It didn't seem polite, somehow, to point out her size relative to his own when he was so determinedly ignoring it. But she doubted that she could fit more than one finger through his doorway. Seeking a change of subject, she asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

"I'm William," he told her. "William the Worm." He smiled. "And who are you?"

"Serena." She returned the smile, and came back to sit by him.

"Well, it's a pleasure, Serena. Everyone's in such a rush when they pass here; I think you're the first to have introduced yourself in, oh, four hundred years. I'm not sure exactly. Time gets a bit funny sometimes, here in the Labyrinth."

"Really…" Serena's eyes danced. "You seem to know a lot about this place… would you mind telling me a little more?"


	5. Chapter four: Chicken

**Chapter four: Chicken**

It wasn't an easy process, learning her way through the Labyrinth. Without William's advice, Serena couldn't have done it at all; but once she had learned to 'look soft' and to never comment on the ease or difficulty of the Labyrinth—it took her four trips into the Oubliettes, two run-ins with the Cleaners, and a near fall into the Bog of Eternal Stench to convince her that certain sections were not 'easy as pie'—she began having a better time of it.

William never came with her in her explorations, since he didn't actually know the way through and thought the whole idea rather too dangerous for him, but he did know a surprising amount—for 'just a worm', anyway—about the Labyrinth and the inhabitants thereof. Serena spent her nights creeping through the shifting passages, and her days sleeping in the outer corridor and speaking with her small blue friend. It was he who told her about the snatter goblins, the tiny, tricky people that lived inside the stones of the Labyrinth, whose two main entertainments were coming up with nonsensical insults to rattle off at high speed, and foiling any attempts that wanderers made to keep track of their progress through the Labyrinth. She had been doubly careful since then to leave nothing that might be considered a trail sign, for fear she might be discovered by the miniscule beings and her presence reported to the Goblin King.

Bit by bit, Serena grew more familiar with the workings of the Labyrinth. She studied the spells on the walls, the traps, the different sections of the maze, and the goblins that lived in them; soon, she had at least a general idea of how to get around, and she had learned a few tricks, of logic and magic alike, that allowed her to avoid most of the dangers. Mostly, she tried not to run into other people; there were several places where goblins liked to gather, and she often saw a dwarf who seemed to act as a caretaker for parts of the Labyrinth. Any one of them could tell the Goblin King about her, and then she would lose whatever small shred of safety she still had.

But so far, she had had no major problems. As nearly as she could tell, it had been two months since she had made her way into the Labyrinth. It was impossible to say exactly; time seemed to loop and curve back on itself, to speed up, slow down, drift sideways, merge, and just generally become a tangled mess. Sometimes she slept for days at a time; once, she wandered the Labyrinth for what felt like a few hours, but was actually a full week. But as closely as such things could be reckoned in the Underground, it had been two months.

Serena woke that morning to the sound of William's urgent whisper. "Serena! The Lychen are all in a dither—someone's come into the Labyrinth!" She blinked sleepily at the worm for a few moments, then looked to the eyeball-studded moss for confirmation. Several clusters near her nodded their eyestalks vigorously, and one stopped muttering long enough to tell her, "Little boy, lost his cousin, hopping mad!" before returning to its whispered conversation with its neighbors.

She leapt to her feet, shrugging off the last of her weariness, and looked toward the entrance. She couldn't see the boy, but it probably wouldn't be long before he wandered this way. "All right—I'll go meet him. Thank you!"

"Wait!" William's warning stopped her in her tracks. "The goblins will be watching him—especially Jareth. He always does. If you run right up to the lad, the king'll know you're here and that you're helping people through the Labyrinth, and he'll come after you."

Serena hesitated, then slumped in defeat. "You're right." After a moment, she smiled weakly. "I'll have to be a little trickier than that, won't I? Guide him a little more indirectly. You'll help him find the opening, won't you?"

"There's a duck! Of course I will. Best of luck, Serena." The worm smiled after her as she turned in the opposite direction. "And don't forget to do something about the False Alarms, once you're in the tunnels!" Serena waved at him over her shoulder as she jogged away.

If he went through the opening across from the Worm, he'd be on the fast track to the castle. The goblins might try and make it hard for him, then, but he'd have quite a head start, so he'd be all—

Wait. Serena stopped in her tracks, then whirled around and raced back toward William's part of the corridor. He still hadn't internalized the idea that most of the people who entered the Labyrinth were _trying_ to get to the castle; he would send the boy right, not left! She cursed herself thoroughly for not being a little firmer on the point when speaking to the worm before.

Too late now, though. Ahead of her, she heard a small voice cry, "Never go _that_ way!" A glimpse of scarlet showed far down the passage; the boy had crossed her pathway and was heading at top speed in the wrong direction. At this rate, he would walk straight into the most obvious of the Oubliettes. She picked up her pace. How to stop him…?

She cut through a side passage and dashed up a long corridor, thinking fast. If she could get ahead of him, she might be able to influence the changing panels to set up a dead end. At least then he might stop and think about where he was going. And if she could somehow draw his attention in the right direction… well, it was worth a try.

She darted down a corridor, then stopped and cursed rather more loudly than she had intended. Dead end. Now was NOT the time for this! She turned around and found that the way back was blocked. This time she nearly screamed in frustration.

"Wait a moment… what have we here?" She spun around and found herself looking at a pair of doors guarded by what she thought were two gigantic cats—until they stood up and stretched, and it became apparent that both heads were attached to a single body. It was divided perfectly down the middle—ginger stripes on one side, and a black tuxedo on the other. The creature—creatures?—stepped toward her, but a bit sideways, as cats will. The orange head sniffed at her while the other spoke in a silky purr. "His Majesty said we were to meet a little noble boy—not a scruffy ragamuffin."

Serena blushed in spite of herself; it wasn't _her_ fault there was no water fit for washing anywhere near the outer corridor of the Labyrinth.

"Maybe he was teasing us; naughty man-thing!" The ginger side raised a forepaw and began washing it.

"He is soooo bad…" the black one crooned, and chuckled to herself, green eyes dancing.

"Just wicked…"

"Delicious…"

Serena shook her head. She didn't have time for this nonsense. "Do you know the way out of here?"

"Through the door, of course." The striped cat didn't raise her eyes from her washing. "Right in front of you."

"But which one?"

"There's only one," the tuxedo purred, flexing her claws.

"What do you—" Serena looked at the wall behind the beasts. There were still two doors. If either of them was an illusion, it was a pretty complex one. "There's two doors."

"Only one door; only one way out…"

"Choose wrong, and it's the bog."

"Or the hole."

"Or maybe His Majesty will let us eat you."

"Yes, we should eat her…"

"So tasty…"

"His Majesty…"

"So naughty…"

Serena backed away a step; the purr coming from both beasts' throats was enough to shake the cobblestones beneath her. She hoped that was the only reason she was trembling.

"Shouldn't you be giving me… a hint, or something?" Serena demanded.

"Only one door…"

"Only one way out…"

Serena sighed and began pacing in front of the doors. She could probably use her magic to get out of here—but then these creatures would certainly tell the Goblin King about her. But their riddle, if it could be called that, made no sense at all, and every moment she spent here was a moment when that boy might get himself into trouble that he couldn't get out of...

She stopped halfway between the doors and looked at them in turn. They looked just the same, carved in relief with spiraling ferns and rich flowers. The dark wood was polished to a glow; there wasn't a chip to differentiate between the two. Selena frowned. There was something wrong…

She looked at the doors, so closely matched, at the lovely wood. Such fine grain—it really was lovely, the way the dark lines ran across the flo—

She blinked. The wood was exactly the same on both doors. Every inch of the wood grain was identical. The chances of that happening…

Quickly, she backed up, and this time, instead of squinting at the doors, she let her eyes lose focus. The two doors swam before her—became four, six, two again, and—

One. She smiled, and, careful not to lose that particular focus, reached out and pushed open the one beautiful door.

"Ooooohhh, she solved it!" The ginger cat sat down on her left and began batting at a stray leaf.

"So clever…" The tuxedo cat lolled by her right side.

Serena smiled at the two of them. "Thank you."

"So polite!"

"She's a sweet thing…"

And as Serena set off down the passage, she was accompanied by an earth-shaking rumble of happiness.


	6. Chapter five: Mockingbird

**Chapter five: Mockingbird**

She had lost time on those doors, but the passage ahead of her seemed to be going fairly straight in the right direction—assuming that the boy was still plowing ahead without thought. She picked up her pace a bit. How to find him now…?

She stopped at an intersection between several corridors. In the center of the area was a signpost, with carved hands pointing in all directions and no indication of what they were pointing to. This was familiar territory; it was a checkpoint for this section of the Labyrinth, a bottleneck that had to be passed to get to the castle—assuming that you had gone right at William's passage. The boy wouldn't run into any dangerous traps before this point, certainly, so it would be safe to wait for him near here—she didn't think he would have already passed it. It hadn't been that long…

Five minutes of waiting had her completely on edge. Ten and she was pacing anxiously. Fifteen was torture. By twenty, she felt absolutely disgusted with herself; how was she going to find him now?

The answer came as a distant yell—"Get off me, you slimy things!" and she sighed in relief even as she dashed off toward the voice. Sounds seemed to carry unusually far here… she would have to remember that.

It sounded as though the boy was in some sort of trouble, but he was more angry than frightened; that was a good sign. Maybe he'd fallen into an Oubliette and didn't like the Helping Hands; in that case, she sympathized completely. The thought of the green, disembodied appendages made her shudder. If the boy had any sense, he would ask the Hands to take him upward. Then again, someone with sense ought not to wish his baby cousin away…

She rounded a bend, then ducked back behind the corner and grinned. One very indignant boy was climbing out of a hole in the cobblestones, his bright red shirt and dirty blonde hair disheveled. From below him, several strangely distorted voices were expressing their disappointment.

"It would have been so much more fun if you'd chosen down…"

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"You can still change your mind, you know…"

"No, thank you!" he huffed. Serena suppressed a chuckle; he sounded just like one of the boys from her parents' village after they'd been knocked down in a game—all toughness and injured pride. She waited a moment, then risked another peek around the corner. The boy was jogging steadily away, still going straight. She sighed and shook her head. Well, at least he was consistent…

She backtracked a little, then took a side passage and started moving parallel to the child's course, also jogging. He had gotten turned around somehow in the last half-hour, and was by this time going in roughly the right direction; her only worry was that he might run into something dangerous, and the best way to keep that from happening was to clear his path for him.

She turned once again onto the path the boy had been taking, looking around carefully. She couldn't see the boy, but after a little while she heard his footfalls—behind her. Perfect.

She glanced around. Nothing special about this particular section of the stone maze, nothing to make him turn aside. But he really ought to be bearing more to the east…

She approached a section of wall and stood before it, contemplating. It was topped with those rounded stone balls that she had come to recognize—the only distinguishing feature of the moving walls.

Placing a hand firmly against the stone, she closed her eyes. She needed it to move… no, wait. She didn't want it to move, of course. Because if it moved it meant the Labyrinth was changing, and she might get lost…

She grinned tightly and stepped away from the wall, turning her back.

When she looked again, there was a dead end where the passage had been.

She backtracked a bit, hurrying. The first side passage she came to led east, and she took it. Ahead, there was an open area with a few potted plants. She was nearing the border of the hedge section. That was another stroke of luck; if he saw the change in scenery, he would surely continue in this direction; change meant progress to almost everyone.

Serena picked up her pace, going as straight as possible. Around her, plants became more and more common; first they decorated the barren walls, then covered them, and then became walls in their own right. Now the only stone left was that beneath her feet, along with a few statues at some of the junctions.

She stopped in another open area, looking around. It had been easy, up until now, to predict the boy's movements; he was so single-mindedly stubborn and persistent. But none of the passages leading from here seemed to go in the direction that the boy was sticking to so adamantly, and she couldn't say which he might choose; they all looked the same…

The footsteps behind her were approaching rapidly. Serena positioned herself behind one of the statues, a pile of gigantic stone books; she would just wait and see what the boy did, then try and cut in front of him again. All this running around and hiding was getting a little ridiculous, though; maybe there was a way for her to track a person's progress by magic… she filed that thought away for further consideration as the boy emerged into the open space.

He stopped in his tracks, blue eyes snapping with anger. The way he glared at the wall made it seem as if it had done him some personal wrong. Or as if he were trying to cause it to move by sheer force of will.

Serena watched in interest. She had never seen a noble before—not counting the Goblin King—but from the descriptions she'd heard, this boy certainly was one. His clothes were richly dyed with expensive, exotic colors, and so loosely cut, too—her mother could have made a whole other shirt for him from the extra fabric. And such fabric it was, shimmery and fine! Perhaps this was what they talked about in the books, that dreamy stuff they called silk… She itched to touch it. And those boots of his were fine as well, polished brown leather with a little heel. In her village, children his age went barefoot—she had no shoes even now.

It was more than his clothing that proclaimed him high-born, though. He was sleek and healthy, his face baby-round and obviously well-fed, and his hair had at one point been neatly brushed into a beribboned tail at his nape, though now it was falling loose. Even more telling, though, was his expression—the one that demanded obedience, now. He put his hands on his little hips, gave the wall one last indignant glare, then turned and flounced—Serena had never seen anyone make a tantrum look so refined!—over to one of the other statues, sat down, and began to cry.

This was too much; Serena clapped both hands over her mouth to smother a giggle. It was a good thing the boy was wailing so loudly, or he certainly would have heard her. What a useless little person! He hadn't even looked around to see where the castle was, or tried any of the passages. As soon as he didn't get his way, he just sat down and gave up. Were all nobles like this? The thought brought tears of mirth to her eyes.

Then she sobered as a new thought occurred to her. How was she going to get him moving… and in the right direction?

While she was still deliberating, a sound off to her left made her turn. Two nasty little goblins had been attracted by the boy's howling, and they were gibbering excitedly to each other, obviously planning some mischief. Serena smiled slowly as she realized that they were standing in the passage that pointed most directly to the castle. All she needed was to get the boy's attention…

She dug in her pocket until she produced a large black feather—a crow's quill. She twirled it between her fingers for a moment, concentrating, then touched it to her lips and blew.

Ragged, mangy crows flew up from all directions, cawing raucously. The boy looked up in startlement, and as he spotted the creatures watching him, he abandoned his crying for a more profitable venture: he leapt to his feet and pointed accusingly at the two goblins. "You! Where is Emeralda?"

The creatures might have considered tormenting the boy when he was blubbering on the ground, but they were too small and too few to consider a head-on confrontation. They stumbled backwards, and when the boy pulled a tiny dagger from his boot and charged them with an unholy screech, the two goblins bolted.

Serena followed at a small distance. The goblins, it seemed, were too stupid to split up or try to confuse the boy; they were running headlong, and as far as Serena could tell, were leading the way directly toward the city. She supposed that made sense—they thought the Goblin King would protect them. But even their stupidity wouldn't get the boy to the city gates—they were much faster and were soon out of the boy's sight. He ran a bit further, then stopped, panting and yelling insults after them. Serena was finally impressed: where had he learned to curse like that?

The boy took his time about catching his breath, and Serena took that opportunity to poke around in his general vicinity, though she, too, was getting tired. She could rest later, when the child had his cousin back.

There was another Oubliette around here, if she remembered correctly, and she wanted to keep the boy away from it if at all possible. She also kept an eye out for Rider patrols—the mounted goblins were just as stupid as any other variety, but they did have very pointy spears, and it would not be well if a troop of them escorted the young nobleman back to the beginning of the Labyrinth.

She was so busy looking for traps and obstacles, it took her an age to realize that she could no longer hear the boy gasping and muttering to himself; she was brought to the realization quite suddenly when she heard a cry of alarm—from off to the south, gods curse it; he was going the wrong way!—and then an angry shout.

Why was it that the Labyrinth was always so much more difficult when she was in a hurry? The hedges sprang to life around her—she never saw the movement, but she heard rustling and, when she turned, the pathways around her had changed. She made her way as quickly as she could toward the sound of the boy's voice, still raised far above the level that would have been deemed acceptable in her home village, but it was slow going at best, and she kept getting turned around.

Finally, though, she was close enough to hear another voice: velvety tones that made her shudder. She knew that voice, from more than twenty years ago…

"I'm sorry to hear that; I rather like the Labyrinth, myself."

"Of course you do! You're a wicked, evil thing!"

Serena crept as close as she dared. There was only one wall of hedge between the voices and herself… only one flimsy barrier between her and the Goblin King. She crouched down and carefully began parting the branches to get a look.

"Evil? And here I thought I was being kind. I've given you a chance to change your mind, have I not?" His tone was amused, but there was threat underlying each word. "You did ask for her to be taken, if you remember."

"I didn't—I didn't mean it!"

Serena had her head halfway through the bush, but she could finally see what was going on. She stifled a gasp. The Goblin King was even more impressive, even more frightening, than she had remembered, and it took every shred of her courage not to bolt.

He was dressed in a sort of wicked splendor, his overly ornate jacket speaking volumes of his pride as too tight breeches showed him a dealer in lust. His casual stance suggested sloth, and wrath was thinly veiled in his painted eyes. As for envy, greed, gluttony… Serena knew those from experience. What he wanted, he took. The depravity of the Goblin King knew no bounds, of that she was certain.

At the moment, he seemed quite interested in a crystal ball he was balancing on his fingertips, while the little noble boy seemed to be debating running up and kicking him in the shin. Serena wanted to shout a warning, but she bit her tongue; she couldn't afford to be discovered now. That crystal meant magic, though, and goblin magic meant trouble.

"I find it hard to believe that there is another interpretation for 'I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now.'" The Goblin King rolled the crystal into his palm, looking up to meet the boy's eyes with a wicked grin that exposed rather sharp teeth. "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me?"

"I—it's not—" The boy spluttered and fell silent.

"Such a pity. I really am sorry to hear that you dislike my Labyrinth. Perhaps a change of pace would be an improvement?" He tossed the crystal carelessly over his shoulder. Serena watched its flight, so entranced that she didn't see the Goblin King leave. It bounced once on the stone of the passage with a bell-like chime, then caught in one of the hedges.  
The hedge trembled, shuddered, then shook itself and began moving forward. The boy stumbled back a step as the one crystal eye blinked. Clumsily, the creature detached itself from the surrounding greenery, its shape becoming more defined as it stepped onto the stone.

It stood at least twice as tall as Serena, a great hulking mass of writing branches. It didn't seem to have a head; the eye was set in the center of its chest. Beneath it, the mouth opened in a hungry grimace, and a tongue emerged, testing the air—a long, slimy vine.

It stepped forward, its six clawed feet scraping against the stones of the passage. Again it tasted the air, and started toward the boy.

This was enough; he stumbled in the opposite direction, and Serena withdrew her head from the bushes and followed. It wasn't hard to parallel the boy's path; if his panicked footsteps hadn't been enough, the growls and rumbles emerging from the maw of the hedge-creature certainly were.  
Serena was at a loss; her thoughts darted wildly as she ran. This being was something new, and she didn't know how to combat it. And it was gaining on the boy; he couldn't outrun it.

Ahead, her path intersected with the boy's; she saw him flash past the opening, obviously frightened out of his wits. At least he was heading toward the castle now. Then the hedge creature thundered past the opening, his thick tail dragging behind him. Serena darted after—

--and nearly ran into the thing as it came to a grinding halt. Slowly, the hedge monster turned around, and the one eye fixed on her.


	7. Chapter six: Dodo

**Chapter six: Dodo**

Serena's throat clamped around a building scream as the thing took a step toward her… then another… then a few more… It's momentum built steadily as it pursued its new target. She turned and ran as fast as she could the way she had come, dodging down a side passage as she tried to remember a spell—any spell!

The beast grunted as it lugged its great bulk after her. The thick tail knocked over potted plants and crushed sections of the hedge wall, but it didn't seem to notice at all. It was intent on its prey; its tongue flicked from its mouth, tasting Serena's scent.

Why was the creature chasing her!? Did it sense somehow that she wasn't supposed to be here? Serena spotted a dead end ahead and turned aside, trying to keep track of where she was, where she could go, where the boy might have gotten by now…

She turned again, trying to work her way back in a circle. She was most familiar with the stony section of the maze nearest the outer corridor where she slept; that might gain her an advantage. A left here, a right there; don't look back, for the love of the Light, don't look back! Where was the clearing with the statues?

Behind her, the beast groaned as it twisted itself around yet another corner. Its tail snagged on a hedge and tore it up by the roots; the woody claws scrambled for purchase on the stones of the passage.

Serena gasped, then made a few quick turns; the creature began to lag behind. He didn't like corners!

She was nearly out of breath by this time, but she pushed herself to greater speed and began twisting and dodging through the passages, taking every opening that presented itself. Behind her the creature moaned piteously, and she might have felt sorry for it if it wasn't trying to eat her.

Then she rounded a bend and entered a section she recognized, full of freestanding sectional of wall. An idea occurred to her, and she turned back just in time to see the creature enter the passage behind her.

Serena jogged off to her right, running slowly along the first of the hedge islands. The monster gave chase with renewed vigor; he seemed to be catching up at last!

Serena rounded the end of the island and dashed back along it, still going fairly slow. By the time she reached the other end, the hedge creature had emerged from around the corner; she allowed him only a glimpse before darting around once again. She grinned as she saw the thing's tail disappearing around the corner ahead of her. It was working.

Around and around she led the beast, always allowing it just a glimpse of her before she turned. She was gasping for breath again; she couldn't keep even this easy pace going forever. Just a little more…

She put on an extra burst of speed. Now she was only a little behind the creature's tail, and it couldn't see her at all.

She would have held her breath if she didn't need air so desperately. The creature faltered in confusion, tasted the air, and—continued going around the island!

Grinning in triumph, Serena ducked down a side passage and darted as quickly and quietly as she could away from that section of the hedges. Behind her, the hedge monster continued to circle.

Now to find that boy again…

Serena was gasping and holding a stitch in her side by the time she returned to where she'd seen him last. At least, she thought it was the same place. It was hard to keep track exactly; she'd taken so many turns during her flight from the Goblin King's creation…

She looked around carefully. This seemed to be the place. If she remembered rightly, the hedge monster had come at her from around that corner… and the boy had been running toward the castle from there.

She couldn't run any longer, but she walked quite hastily in that direction. How far had the boy gone? What turns had he taken? She looked around for a sign, any sign, of the boy's passage, cursing the snatter goblins who must have carried away the leaves dislodged by his motion. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen any sign of the path of destruction left by the hedge monster; they must have cleaned that up, too.

At the next major intersection, Serena stopped and sat down, leaning against the base of a large statue much like a chess piece she had seen illustrated in a book. She was tired, hot, thirsty, hungry, disheveled, and nearly lost—in short, she was hardly better off than the boy himself at this point. How was she ever going to help him like this?

Serena rested for a bit, still thinking. The boy wouldn't have reentered the stone maze, and she doubted he was in the tunnels—he'd surely not be stupid enough to land himself in an Oubliette when he'd avoided it the first time. In fact, he was probably still in the hedge maze, unless he'd found his way into the forest or the bog. That at least gave her a general area to search.

If she were still in the stone maze she would have asked the Lychen for help. They saw everything, and passed the word among themselves far quicker than mere speech seemed to account for. Maybe there was something like that here…

She could have kicked herself. The hedges! They certainly knew when someone had passed by; they only changed when they thought it would help confuse one of the Labyrinth's 'guests'. She stood quickly and approached the nearest section of hedge. Could it speak to her? She didn't know. And would it want to? She scowled; she would force it.

Serena stretched out her hand and laid it on a branch. It quivered beneath her touch, though from the wind or the passage of some small animal or from its own will, Serena couldn't have guessed.

"Where is the boy?"

Again the quivering, and Serena smiled grimly. Whether or not it actually understood her, the plant was responding; it knew she was speaking to it.

"Show me where the boy went."

The bush shook harder this time, and a tiny suspicion niggled at her mind. "You can move, I know; make some motion! Show me where he is!"

Now the bush was positively quaking, and Serena's suspicion reasserted itself. The hedge was laughing at her! She scowled. As if a glorified weed had any ground for looking down on her…

"You'll tell me where he is, or so help me, I'll burn you to a cinder!"

The entire section of the wall teetered, as though it would collapse; Serena backed away hastily as it bent double, quivering from top to toe with silent laughter. Little branches curled and writhed, and a shower of leaves dislodged themselves onto the ground.

Serena could have screamed. The plants were obviously not going to cooperate with her, and she had no more ideas, except to continue toward the Goblin City and hope for a little more luck.

She turned around and took a step. The ground seemed to fall out from underneath her; she was tumbling downward into the blackness.

This was not her day.


	8. Chapter seven: Penguin

**Chapter seven: Penguin**

Serena expected to feel the Helping Hands grab her at any moment, but they seemed to be taking their time about things. Then she realized that she was not, in fact, falling; she was—sliding?

She had very little time after that to wonder where she was going; she shot from the end of the slide into the air and, with a splash, found herself immersed in a freezing lake far under the ground.

She had no sense of up or down, but she couldn't keep from struggling; she was brought to the surface after several interminable seconds by mere chance. She gasped and choked, the cool air flooding into her lungs, and tried to make out her surroundings.

All was pitch blackness; she could see nothing. She couldn't say how deep the water was, except that it was too deep for her to stand up, or how far it extended, whether for a few feet or a thousand.

She struggled to keep her head above water; she had never been the best swimmer, and she had not practiced in quite a while. The chill was seeping into her bones, making her teeth chatter and slowing her movements. She had to get out of this cold…

Serena clawed at her sodden skirt with hands that were quickly becoming immobile, searching for her pockets; then she found them, and carefully took hold of a smooth pebble. It was hard to tell; she was becoming numb; but she thought that this was the right one, the chunk of pinkish quartz…

She held it as tightly as she could, afraid that her shivering might make her drop it, and drew on her power. The stone in her hands grew blessedly warm and began to give a soft, rosy light. She waited until her hands were steady enough that she need not fear dropping it, and lifted the stone high.

Inky water stretched as far as the light could reach in all directions. Above her, the light faded before she could even guess at a ceiling. Serena began swimming slowly—choosing a random course, since she had lost all sense of direction—in the hope of finding some place to rest and hopefully get out of the water. The only sound was her frigid breath and clumsy splashing.

After a few minutes, she paused and held up her light once more. She was getting nowhere; she might even have been swimming in circles, for all she knew. There must be stone somewhere: the tunnel through which she had come, for instance. But she had nothing to direct her to it.

She looked around a little, and urged more light from the stone, but it availed her nothing.

She was growing tired, now, and the cold addled her wits. "Brilliant. Just peachy! So this is what becomes of me, is it? This is what you get for meddling in the business of the goblins!" she yelled into the darkness. Her voice seemed to be swallowed up as soon as it left her throat; there wasn't a hint of an echo.

There was, however, a small sound from behind her. Serena turned, as quickly as she could in the water, holding out her light to catch a glimpse of whatever it was…

Not a ripple disturbed the surface of the water for as far as she could see. But she had heard something, she was sure! And quite close, too…

"Who's there?" she demanded. Another sound came—behind her once again—and this time she identified it as a giggle.

She spun around in time to see something pale slip beneath the water.

Serena had been only annoyed before; now she began to grow truly afraid. There was something in the water, laughing at her, circling her as she floated helplessly…

She reached into her pocket again and pulled out her flint knife. It was small, the blade perhaps four inches long, but she felt safer holding it. Still clutching the glowing stone firmly in her left hand, she brandished the weapon with her right. "Show yourself!"

A few moments passed, then something stirred the surface a few feet in front of Serena—carefully out of her reach. Slowly, as if trying not to frighten her, the being raised itself from the water.

It was vaguely human in appearance—a head, a face, two arms, a torso. But this person's skin was smooth and rubbery-looking, the palest imaginable blue, with a smattering of darker spots across its cheeks and on one shoulder. The eyes were without either pupil or white; they were one solid color, a liquid black. The hair streaming loose and wet over the being's shoulders was silvery blonde. His face was narrow-boned and graceful and, Serena thought, rather male.

He raised a hand in a greeting, and Serena noted transparent fins running along his forearms and light webbing between his fingers—along with five very long, very sharp-looking fingernails. However, he didn't seem to be threatening her in any way, and after a moment she lowered her knife hand. "Hello."

"Heh-loh," he imitated her, and laughed; apparently he thought the word strange. He swam an easy circle around her, apparently to examine her from every angle. Then he rattled off a series of syllables in some language that seemed to consist largely of clicks and pops.

Serena shook her head. "I don't understand."

He seemed to take her meaning; he changed tactics. He gestured to her, then pointed down. "Merre-chk."

She glanced downward as she pocketed her blade. The water was just as inky and impenetrable as before. She couldn't see a thing. "I don't understand," she said again.

"Merre-chk," he repeated; he swam closer to her, slowly so that she would not be alarmed, and pointed downward again. "Se frenna merre-chk."

Serena shook her head hopelessly.

The being reached out, carefully, and gently caught her wrist. He then slowly immersed himself in the water, tugging her downward.

Oh. Merre-chk. 'Swim'. Or maybe 'down', she wasn't absolutely sure. Serena took a gulp of air and ducked under the water.

She slowly opened her eyes. Now that her light no longer reflected from the surface, she could see a long way below her, much farther than she had above the water, and what she saw nearly made her gasp in astonishment.

The floor of the lake stretched out, smooth and white, with dark patches that Serena thought must be fields of seaweed. Away to her right was a building of some sort—a twisting, spiraling construction of pale green stone. Figures slipped in and out of doors and windows, darted across open stretches of sand, or tended gardens of underwater plants—figures that seemed to be half human and half fish. Or not so much fish, she thought, as graceful serpents with long, airy fins. They were every imaginable shade of pale pink, lavender, green, grey, or blue, many with spots or stripes, and they dressed in long, flowing robes and sashes only a few shades darker.

Her companion tugged at her wrist again, and she glanced over at him. Now she could see clearly his lower half, a slender tail that wove and coiled back on itself, like a snake without scales, edged and tipped with elegant fins that drifted to and fro with the motion of the water. More fins, she now saw, extended from either of his shoulders, like a pair of ragged butterfly wings. He gestured downward and began towing her that direction.

Serena shook her head violently and tugged her wrist free. When the creature—a merman?—glanced back at her in confusion, she pointed upward and began swimming that direction.

She broke the surface, gasping for air. The merman came up just after her, still looking confused. She sighed. How to explain to someone who had probably never seen a human before, that she couldn't breath underwater?

Or, she thought, how to communicate that she was freezing cold and growing very tired. She needed land, someplace to rest. Maybe if she weren't so cold, she could come up with something…

"Um," she began. "Can you take me… someplace above the water? Somewhere out there?" She gestured out across the surface of the lake. "Land?"

"Lahn-duh," he repeated, copying her gesture, then again, thoughtfully, "Lahn-duh…" He looked as though he were thinking hard; but finally he shook his head.

Serena sighed again. Well, it had been worth a try. She glanced around her again, then, with an apologetic look, started swimming once more in a random direction. Maybe she could find somewhere to rest before she became completely exhausted.

The merman kept pace with her for a while; he seemed to find it amusing to watch the way she kicked her legs and towed with her arms. She, in turn, was awed by his effortless glide—and grateful when he apparently realized she was not made for the water, and began towing her by the wrist again. She tucked the glowing stone into her pocket after a few minutes; it still gave a feeble light through the fabric of her dress, and beyond the merman, there was nothing to see. The blackness seemed to stretch forever.

A sound had been gradually building, too low at first for her to notice it consciously, but now she gasped and motioned for the merman to stop. There: she was not imagining it. It was a hiss of water on rock.

She gestured excitedly, cupping a hand around her ear. The merman listened a moment, then grinned. "Lahn-duh?"

"Yes! Land!" She pointed in the direction of the noise, ahead and a little to the left. "Can you take me there?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and darted off in that direction with such speed that Serena squealed and threw both arms around his neck. He was careful to keep her head above the water; he at least seemed to understand that, for whatever reason, she didn't want to go under the surface.

After a while, he slowed, then came to a stop. Serena reluctantly released her hold on him and turned to look.

The inky water lapped against a long beach of stone. Her light had gone out by now, but she found she could see; at the edge where the water touched the shore there was some sort of glow, perhaps from some tiny water plant. It stretched away as far as she could see in either direction, hardly even seeming to curve—the lake must be large indeed. Ahead, the land sloped up into darkness.

"Thank you," Serena told the merman, disentangling herself from him. She was clumsy about it; the cold had her almost completely numb. But she swam a few strokes and pulled herself out onto the stone. Blessed land; she wanted to kiss it. She crawled forward, then tried to stand. But she was shaking badly, and she couldn't feel her legs; she fell to the ground with a cry.

Behind her, there was a splash; she looked back to see the merman heaving himself onto the bank. She winced; he seemed so weak and clumsy on land, and she was certain that the stone must hurt his soft skin.

Nevertheless, he pulled himself forward on his belly, dragging his long tail behind him. "Se taurma?" he asked. The words were indecipherable, but his concern was clear.

"I'm… s-so cold…" she told him, sitting down carefully and wrapping her arms around her knees. She had lost track of how long she was in the water, but it was obviously much too long. If she were aboveground, she might have built a fire, but there was nothing to burn down here, and anyway, she doubted she could handle her flint and steel in her condition.

He looked confused. Serena reached into her pocket, groping around for her little pebble, and held it up for him; it dropped from her shaking fingers, and she clumsily picked it up. "Light," she said, and the pebble began to flicker as she fed her power into it. "Warm," she said, and, taking his hand, wrapped his fingers around the stone so that he could feel. "I need to be warm. And I need to find a way out into the light."

He held the stone for a moment, staring at her in awe. She vaguely wondered why.

"Se urashee yolandur! Mnemoseen-chk se clehred!" He waved the stone around a bit, then slapped the rocky surface beneath them. "Yoland. Yoland gre!"

Serena shook her head. "I don't understand…"

He caught hold of her hand and placed the stone in it; then he took the other and laid it firmly against the the ground. "Se yoland." He pointed to her, then the ground. "Kora warr-muh. Warr-muh."

Warm? She continued to blink at him in confusion. The ground wasn't warm. It was cold, a lot of cold stone…

"Oh." She dropped her pebble and laid both hands against the ground. It was hard to concentrate on her power; the flickering of her little light-stone was proof enough of that. But she tried. She sent her magic into the ground beneath her.

At first it seemed nothing would happen; then, slowly, the stone seemed to soak up her power and sent it back as heat. It spread out more than she would like; she couldn't seem to keep a hold on it, to limit the area. But soon the stone was wonderfully, beautifully, deliciously warm.

Her strength exhausted, Serena lowered herself to the ground, curling up on her side. "Thank you," she said thickly to the merman, as her eyes drifted closed.

He reached out, tentatively, and brushed her wet hair from her forehead. "Se frommen."

Then Serena slept.


	9. Chapter eight: Nightengale

**Chapter eight: Nightingale**

When she woke, it was pitch dark, and she was stiff and sore—and hungry, very hungry. She couldn't remember for a moment where she was; then she groaned as the sound of lapping water jogged her memory.

Serena sat up, rubbing her neck where it was particularly uncomfortable, and looked around. Her pebble had gone dark again, so her only light came from that line of phosphorescence along the shore. Still, it was enough to see that the merman had gone and she was alone.

She was grateful to realize that the stone beneath her was still warm, and that she had dried out while she slept. She stood, picking up her light-stone as she did so, and took stock of her situation. She was bruised, scraped, and sore, and her dress was in tatters, but nothing seemed to be broken. A quick look in her pockets confirmed that she hadn't lost anything, although a handful of berries, which she had intended to eat sometime during the day, were squashed into a soggy lump wrapped in a scrap of cloth. She was hungry enough to eat much worse, though; she swallowed the sticky substance, then rinsed her cloth out in the water and laid it on the warm patch of stone to dry.

She was still hungry, and she had no idea how long she had been asleep or which way she ought to go to get out of this place. The air was completely still, with no hint of a breeze to follow, and there was no light except that line along the shore.

Well, she could help the light situation, at least… Serena picked up her quartz pebble and drew light from it, as much as it could hold, then held it high.

The stone ran gently upward for about twenty yards, then hit a wall. The stone was smooth; the only difference from the floor was an abundance of tiny faceted crystals seemingly sprouting from the face of the rock.

Serena stood and hobbled—she was still stiff—over to the wall to inspect it more closely. There were no breaks or openings anywhere that she could see. But the crystals were really fascinating; they sparked like fire in the light of her little stone, in every color imaginable and some that she had never thought possible.

A splashing behind her drew her attention, and she turned in time to see the merman heave himself onto the bank. She hurried back, lest he try and haul himself up to her, and knelt down on the stone next to him. "Hello!" she greeted him with a smile.

"Heh-loh," he returned pleasantly. "Se taurma?"

"Um…"

He shook his head. "Ve-chk jongasta. Ronet?" He held up one hand; in it was a large, silvery fish, which he held by the tail.

"Um… you want me to eat that? I don't have anything to cook it with…"

He looked puzzled at her speech; then he pulled himself a little further from the water, coiling his tail underneath himself so he could sit in a more upright position. He dug two claws into the side of the fish, tore off a chunk, and popped it into his mouth, then offered the rest to her. "Freg. Se ronet, ve-chk?"

Serena stared at him for a moment as she tried very hard not to vomit. He ate raw fish? Then again, she thought fairly, he can't very well cook it underwater…

She reached out and took the fish. If he could eat it, she probably could too… She pulled her knife out of her pocket and peeled away a section of skin, then cut out a small piece. She looked at it for a moment, then reluctantly brought it to her mouth…

The merman burst out laughing at the look on her face, and even Serena had to grin—once she'd finished gulping as much water as she could out of the lake. It was _terrible_. How could he eat it?

She returned to her spot on the shore; then the warm stone beneath her gave her an idea. She pulled the fish over to her and plied her knife once more, as she had so many times in her home village. The merman looked puzzled but interested; he picked bits of flesh from the fish's head while he watched her removing guts and bones.

When the fish was cleaned to her satisfaction, Serena laid a hand on the stone floor. She sent out a jolt of power, then pulled away quickly, not wishing to burn herself on the piping-hot surface. She carefully spread the fish open on the spot; it sizzled merrily. The merman leaned close to investigate; Serena had to bat his hands away to keep him from burning himself.

She turned the fish over with the edge of her knife. It was really too bad that she had no herbs to cook it with, but beggars can't be choosers. Finally, she was satisfied; she slid the fish off of the hot spot and sliced it neatly into two portions. One she slid toward the merman. She sliced off a piece of the other, speared it on her blade, and started blowing to cool it.

The merman eyed his portion carefully, then picked it up. Apparently, it had cooled sufficiently to touch, because he didn't drop it, but he looked quite confused, as though questioning why anyone would want their food warm. Serena watched him as she ate; the fish really was good, but she wondered if he'd like it—part of her hoped that he might react as she had previously, so that for once she could have a laugh at his expense.

The merman sniffed the fish, then tentatively nibbled at a corner. He chewed on it for a very long time, Serena noted, but he found it at least tolerable, for he took another bite.

"Good?" she asked, and the merman smiled at her.

"Gud." He then wolfed down the rest of his portion.

Serena didn't take much longer to finish hers. She wiped her greasy hands on her skirt—it was beyond repair in any case—and then looked at the merman. She really had no idea what to do next; the unbroken cave wall did not give her much hope.

The merman came up with a short-term solution, at least. He placed a hand on his chest and said, "Regati."

Serena smiled, and repeated the name. "Regati." Then she indicated herself. "Serena."

"Siren-nah." He seemed to find this funny. "Ungi siren, se ve-chk?"

"No, Serena," she tried correcting him, but it was too late; he seemed to like his version better.

"Se to tisa-chk gle, ungi Siren?"

"I have no idea—I think the only thing I can do is start walking." She gestured vaguely down the shore, along that single glowing line. "I have to see if I can find a way out of here…"

Regati seemed to understand; he pulled himself back down the shore and into the shallows. "Mege-chk, glin!" He swam a few feet along the shoreline, then paused to wait for her. Serena scrambled to her feet, grabbing her light-stone; then she hesitated. "Wait a minute." It was unlikely that she could go around the entire lake before giving up, but just in case, she jogged up to the wall. Laying her hand on a small blue crystal at about the height of her shoulder, she poured a few drops of her power into it.

When she returned to the water, the crystal was glowing like a star behind her, and Regati looked at her as though she had just sprouted antlers. "Oh, come on, then," she told him, and set off at a brisk pace down the shore.

She soon settled into a rhythm, and the single glowing crystal retreated steadily behind her. She held her light-stone before her, switching hands when her arm got tired, and looked to the wall for any sign of change. Regati kept pace with her easily, and soon started to sing to pass the time.

Regati's song was unlike anything Serena had heard before. There didn't seem to be words, or a real tune, or even a rhythm, but his voice echoed hauntingly from the wall of stone in long notes that rose and fell like ocean waves, chiming high and moaning low and gliding and soaring in between. Serena was entranced; she almost forgot to look for a way out of the cave, and she stumbled often, not paying attention to her feet.

When Regati's song ended, he looked to her, half-expectant, and Serena struggled to come up with a song that might have even a fraction of the beauty of what she had just heard. In the end, though, she just let his music be his, and hers be hers; she began singing an old folk song from her village.

_"It was a maid of my country __  
__As she came by a hawthorn tree, __  
__As full of flow'rs as might be seen __  
__She marvel'd to see the tree so green. _

_At last she asked of this tree, __  
__How came this freshness unto thee, __  
__And ev'ry branch so fair and clean? __  
__I marvel that you grow so green. _

_The tree made answer by and by, __  
__I have cause to grow triumphantly, __  
__The sweetest dew that ever be seen __  
__Doth fall on me to keep me green. _

_Yea, quoth the maid, but where you grow __  
__You stand at hand for ev'ry bow, __  
__Of ev'ry man for to be seen, __  
__I marvel that you grow so green. _

_Though many one take flow'rs from me, __  
__And many a branch out of my tree, __  
__I have such store they will not be seen __  
__For more and more my twigs grow green. _

_But how, an' they chance to cut thee down, __  
__And carry thy branches into the town? __  
__Then they will never more be seen __  
__To grow again so fresh and green. _

_Though that you do it is no boot, __  
__Altho' they cut me to the root, __  
__Next year again I will be seen __  
__To bud my branches fresh and green. _

_And you, fair maid, cannot do so, __  
__For when your beauty once does go __  
__Then will it never more be seen, __  
__As I with my branches can grow green. _

_The maid with that began to blush __  
__And turn'd her from the hawthorn bush __  
__She thought herself so fair and clean, __  
__Her beauty still would ever grow green. _

_But after this never could I hear __  
__Of this fair maiden anywhere, __  
__That ever she was in forest seen __  
__To talk again with the hawthorn green."_

Regati seemed fascinated; apparently he had never heard a song with words in it. "Se urlula trem elalsei. Se urashee Siren, kre yura." Then he gave her a beseeching look. "Gigid?"

Serena guessed that he was asking for an encore, and started the song again; his pleased and attentive look confirmed the theory. Toward the end he tried joining in, not with words but with his haunting clear notes. He was a little off-key; the third time through, Serena went slowly, trying to correct him. By the fifth, Regati had discovered the concept of a harmony and was employing it enthusiastically.

"That was beautiful!" Serena told him, when she began to tire of singing. Then she fell silent for a while; the words of the song were running circles in her head, and pulling the tag ends of some very depressing thoughts in their wake.

"I wonder how it will be for me?" she mused. "I've looked like a child for twenty years and more, and I grow slower every minute, as though time is freezing on me. Will it stop completely one day, so that I never get old? Or will I age to infirmity and illness, and then find I can't die? It frightens me, Regati."

The merman seemed to understand this last, at least; he gave her a small smile, then flicked his fin so that a few droplets of water spattered against her cheek.

"H-hey!" she gasped. "That's _cold_!" She glared at the merman, who smiled innocently and waved his fins at her; then she ran to the water and kicked a spray of it in his direction. Regati flicked beneath the surface, then came up laughing at her, and Serena had to grin, too; what point was there in splashing a merman?

Her gloom properly dispelled, Serena started out again; but after a while she noticed that Regati was lagging behind. "What's wrong?"

The merman shook his head slowly, and gestured ahead of them.

"You don't want to come?"

He hesitated for a moment, apparently trying to think of some way to explain; then he scooped up some of the water in his webbed hand, gave an expression of utmost disgust, and pointed again ahead of them. "Te ve-chk yulse gra tsen-chk. Ya ti hulgena."

"There's… something wrong with the water?" Serena knelt at the edge of the lake and dipped up a handful of the water. It _looked_ all right… she tasted it, and frowned. It was faint, but there was a taste of filth that reminded her of the time something had died in the village well.

She looked to Regati and nodded. "I understand. You can't breathe this, can you?"

Regati smiled faintly and shook his head. Then he gestured back out into the lake.

"You're right; this is where we part ways," Serena said, smiling sadly; then, on an impulse, she reached out and wrapped her arms around the merman's neck. "Thank you."

He returned her embrace, then slipped out into the water. "Enori se, ungi Siren. He lensa."

"He lensa," she repeated as he turned and, with a flick of his tail, disappeared beneath the surface.


	10. Chapter nine: Mud Duck

**Chapter nine: Mud duck**

Serena watched the ripples on the water slowly fade and resolved to return to this place again if it was at all possible. Regati was one of the few people she was certain she could trust in the Labyrinth, and it was incomprehensible that she might never see him again.

She turned aside, glancing back they way they had come. The single glowing crystal was just barely visible, a pale blue glimmer far behind, so she walked to the wall to mark another. This one burned gold in the darkness, and she smiled as she realized that she had found a way to map the lake and make it navigable. Crystals in different colors and patterns all the way around the circumference could do as stars did for sailors, and also direct her to the shore if she found herself in the lake by accident; and perhaps she could even devise some way to use them to signal Regati…

Planning and calculation gave her something to do as she continued along the shore; they helped her keep her mind off the oppressive darkness beyond the light cast by the stone she held, and the weight of the tons of rock hanging above her. She was not so occupied, though, that she could fail to notice when the air began to smell of rot and filth, or when the rock beneath her feet became scummy and started causing her to slip. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but continued; at least something was changing. Perhaps she had found the way out.

The stone wall continued unbroken, however, and the stench grew more and more foul the farther she went. She was just debating whether it might not be better to turn back and try the other direction when her light fell on a dark patch in the wall. She hurried over.

A trail of slime ran down the wall from a round hole set about eight feet up. Yellowish moss grew thickly all around it, outlining a shallow channel that directed the ooze down the wall and across the floor, out into the lake. Serena nearly gagged. A _sewage pipe_? Here, in the beautiful, pristine lake, in the home of the merfolk? She was livid. Of course it was the wicked Goblin King's doing; only he would encroach on another race, with no thought at all for their well-being, just for his own convenience!

She scowled all the harder as she realized that this might be her only way out of the cavern; then, with a resigned sigh, she stepped up to the wall. First she marked three crystals, in a triangle pointing roughly upward, so that she would be able to find the place again; then she examined the wall. Years, decades, maybe centuries of flowing filth and growing moss had eroded the stone wall, leaving all sorts of lumps and hollows where she might climb; she tried very hard not to think about what, exactly, she was putting her hands into as she started upward.

The slime made it difficult to get a good hold, and Serena slipped several times, but finally she clambered into the pipe, wincing as she stepped into the muck. The air here was close and stagnant, and the smell of decay was overwhelming, but she breathed carefully through her mouth and continued onward, and eventually the desire to vomit faded somewhat.

It was good that she was so small; she had to stoop, but at least she wasn't crawling. Hopefully she could find another way out in the future, though, or leaving was going to become even more uncomfortable when she grew taller.

The duct ran nearly horizontal for a while, sloping very slightly uphill; Serena tried to calculate where she was in relation to the castle. She soon gave up; she had no idea how wide the lake was, or how deep underground. Then she came to a bend; the pipe opened up above, soaring suddenly upward. Serena stood fully upright and raised her light over her head; it showed another turn, perhaps twenty feet above her, where the pipe ran sideways once more.

She examined the walls; they were narrower here, and slimy only on one side from the steady trickle of filth. She sighed, and, placing one hand and one foot on either side, began to shimmy up the tube.

It was hard going, and she stopped to rest several times, bracing her feet against the walls. The smell was almost unbearable, and made it harder to concentrate on where to put her hands, but she gritted her teeth and continued.

Eventually she reached the bend; she made a desperate grab for the rim of the pipe, and dragged herself over the edge. She didn't care that she was lying full-length in goblin refuse; it was impossible that she could get any filthier.

After several minutes, she had recovered enough to stumble to her feet and continue. The tunnel turned several times to the left and right, but she barely noticed; her only concern was that it began to slope more and more upward, until she was struggling forward on hands and knees. It seemed that for every two feet she crawled forward, she slid back one, and all the while the reek filled her nostrils and the slime worked its way into her hair and her dress and her skin. She grew desperate for clean air and sunlight, and the closeness of the walls made it all the worse. How long had she been crawling through this Light-forsaken hole? How much farther could it possibly go on?

Then she came to another upright, ending in a metal grate. She was worn ragged now, and the eight feet of pipe above her seemed like miles; she sat down and buried her face in her knees. It was too much. It was just too much to ask of her. Tears made tracks through the grime on her cheeks, and she choked back a sob.

Then she jerked at the sound of voices above her.

"—down the Hole. Then you take those things and wash them—and you'd better get those shirts white as snow, or there'll be hell to pay." The voice was high-pitched and grating.

"Dump pots. Wash shirts. Kitt understand." The second speaker had a deep, booming voice, but something about it sounded oddly feminine.

"Good. Now get moving, you stupid beast." A door clanged shut. A moment later, the deep voice spoke again. "Dump pots. Wash shirts. Kitt work hard." There was a pause, and then a grunt and a scraping noise. A cascade of muck and slime rained down on Serena, who couldn't suppress a yelp.

"Hunh?" Above her, the covering of the pipe was dragged back. A very large and furry head was silhouetted against the light. "Who there?"

It was no use hiding, and Serena was too tired to try. "Please, can you help me out of here?" she begged. She was beyond caring what happened to her, just so long as she could get out of the sewer.

"Out?" The creature looked around, then retreated from the hole. Serena despaired for a moment, but soon the beast was back, and began feeding the end of a large white bedsheet into the pipe. "Here."

Serena grabbed the corner of the sheet as soon as it was within reach, and was hauled up from the hole. She was banged and jostled and scraped by the sides of the pipe, but she didn't care; she was out.

Her rescuer looked at her curiously. "Goblin?"

"No," Serena told the beast. "Are you?"

"Kitt not goblin!" And Serena was forced to agree; the goblins were small and foul, but this being was huge, probably seven feet tall, with long reddish fur and a squashed, kindly face. She smiled slowly, and Serena smiled back. "Friend?"

"I guess so. I'm Serena." She looked around. They were in a large stone room, with torches in brackets on the walls and large tubs of water interspersed with boxes and barrels. "Are we in the castle?"

"Yeah." Kitt nodded. "Washroom. Kitt wash shirts. See?" She pointed to a huge pile of laundry, lacy shirts and silk sheets and embroidered coats… Beyond, more clothing hung on lines to dry. Serena shook her head. All the clothing was fine, and all the same size. How could one man possibly go through so much laundry?

"You've got your hands full, haven't you?"

"Kitt work hard." She seemed proud of herself. "Kitt do good work, Kitt's family stay in city. Kitt happy."

Serena cocked her head. Kitt was happy to be working for the goblins? Then again, she probably didn't know any better. It wasn't as though the beast had anything to compare it to.

While Serena was thinking, Kitt reached out and plucked at her sleeve. "Dirty. Smell bad." She lumbered over to a washbin. "Here."

Serena grinned and followed. "Thank you so much, Kitt!" A bath was _exactly_ what she needed. She discarded her ruined dress and began splashing about in the water. It was cold, but blessedly clean, and she scrubbed herself thoroughly with a lump of sweet-smelling soap that Kitt found for her. "You're the best."

Kitt gave her slow smile again. "Serena happy?"

"Very." She was also tired and sore, but that was something to worry about another time. "Kitt, do you know about a little boy coming into the Labyrinth?"

The beast thought for a minute, then nodded. "Come for little girl."

"That's right. Is he still here?"

"Yeah." Kitt smiled. "Real close. Goblins run around city, look for boy."

"Really?" Serena rinsed the last soapsuds from her hands. "Maybe I can still help him… um…" She looked distastefully at her dress, now just a pile of filthy rags.

"Here." Kitt went to the clotheslines and came back with a lacy white shirt and a pair of black pants. The shirt would be huge, thought Serena wryly, but the tight pants were almost a perfect fit. Loose in the front, though…

"Thank you, but are you sure it's all right? Won't you get in trouble?"

"Kitt help friend," the beast replied simply. "Hurry."

Serena pulled on the shirt which, she noticed with scorn, buttoned only just past her middle though it hung nearly to her knees. She rolled up the lacy sleeves, then pulled on the pants. They were looser than she expected, and very stretchy, but Kitt produced a belt from somewhere, and after the cuffs were folded up a few times, Serena was ready to go.

"Thank you again, Kitt!" she said, as the beast led her to a door. "Good luck."

"Good luck," the beast returned. "Go up stairs. Big room, lots more stairs. Serena careful, not get lost. Second door, down stairs, first door, up up up. King at top. Little girl, too." She put her big arms around Serena. "Careful."

"I will be," Serena promised, and dashed out the door.


	11. Chapter ten: Swallow

**Chapter ten: Swallow**

Serena took the stairs two at a time, then skidded to a halt on the landing. When Kitt had said lots of stairs…

A wide room of unadorned stone met her sight, but the stone needed no embellishment to make the sight overwhelming. Stairs and walkways lined the walls, the ceiling, the floor, at crazy and haphazard and constantly changing angles. After looking for just a few moments, Serena had to close her eyes, leaning against a wall as dizziness threatened to knock her feet from under her. Where was she standing? A wall? A ceiling? She didn't know any more. The floors and staircases ran every direction, sideways and backwards; the room was twisted in on itself like a pretzel.

She took a careful breath, then opened her eyes again, focusing on the floor directly in front of her. Two doors, had Kitt said? She started forward, then paused after she had passed an open archway. Did that count as a door? She tried to remember whether she had seen any doors in this place, but finally had to look up. Yes. There were doors. And curtains. But none of them were anywhere near her. So Kitt must have just meant openings… right?

Serena quickly returned her gaze to the junction between floor and wall. Past the archway she went, up one step, through a second passage that opened on her right. She raised her eyes once more—

—and gasped as she looked up and found herself in the same room as before. How was that possible? The door had led away from here…

A flight of steps ran up on her right, and another down to her left. She took the latter, then ducked through a curtain that hung across the first opening. Her stomach gave another sickening lurch as she realized that she was back in that insane room again, and this time she recognized the curtain she had gone through, a drape of ragged lavender that hung sideways above her, still swishing with the motion of her passage.

She clutched at the stone wall behind her, sliding slowly down so that she could rest her head on her knees as she waited for her stomach to stop roiling. This was worse, far worse, than anything else in the Labyrinth, even that sewage pipe… Her heart was racing. How could anyone, even a Goblin King, bear to live in such a place?

Serena swallowed, then returned to her earlier tactic of looking only at the floor before her, doing her best to ignore the sheer drop just beyond the edge that led to a door seemingly set in the floor with a flight of stairs running above it to a catwalk leading to an arched opening through which she could see the eternally continuing stairs…

She tore her gaze away, back to the floor. Stairs. She needed stairs going up. She looked carefully to her right and left. There were two sets going down. Where were the--?

She looked behind her, wondering if she'd come the wrong way and how she could possibly find the way back, and there were the stairs, where that doorway had been just a moment before. She shook her head and began climbing. Up. She would keep on going up—and pretending she knew which way up was…

She followed the stairs to a landing, then took the first path upward that she saw. There might have been more than one. She didn't know. She didn't care. It wasn't as though knowing would help her find her way here…

She stopped abruptly as a thick wooden door loomed into view. Her staircase halted abruptly at its foot; there was no other path. This must be it. She reached for the knob.

The room beyond was not what she expected. Plush carpet of a deep green covered nearly all of the stone floor in the circular room, and drapes of the same color adorned the tall window, on whose sill sat a little girl.

She was swathed from head to foot in folds of lace and silk, so that Serena was amazed when she turned at the sound of the door closing—she wouldn't have thought the girl could move at all. Her feet were clad in dainty white slippers covered in beads and embroidered flowers, and she had almost as much ribbon on her head as curly brown hair. The eyes she turned on Serena were first fearful, then puzzled. "You're not a goblin."

"No. Where is the Goblin King?" Serena asked. Kitt had said he would be here. If he wasn't, then he could be anywhere…

"He's gone to meet Jonathan, to try and stop him I think. He might have already done it. He left a long time ago…" The girl pointed to a clock hanging on the wall, and Serena gulped. Only half an hour remained.

"Well, why haven't you left?" she demanded, forgetting for a moment the dizzying room beyond the door.

The girl seemed perplexed that Serena even had to ask. "I can't."

"Who's to stop you?"

"Why… I'm _supposed_ to wait here for Jonathan to rescue me. That's what ladies _do_ in all the stories, isn't it?"

"'What ladies d—'" Serena spluttered. "If you don't move, the chances are good you'll end up a goblin. You saw them, didn't you?" The girl nodded slowly. "Do you _want_ to look like that? _Act_ like that?"

The girl shrugged. "But I won't. Jonathan will save me. That's what always happens in the stories."

"This isn't a story!" Serena cried in exasperation. She strode over to the window and yanked the girl to her feet. "Come on. We'll go to meet your cousin. That's not against your silly rules, is it?"

The question had been basted in sarcasm, but the child seemed not to have noticed. "Yes, it is! And don't you touch me," she added indignantly, jerking her arm out of Serena's grip. "You're just a filthy commoner in boy's clothes. You have no right."

Serena opened her mouth to argue, but gasped and made a dash for the curtains as the sound of boot heels on stone rang out from the other side of the door. She ducked behind the drapery, grateful that the curtains were so wastefully long as to hide her feet, just a few seconds before the door clicked open.

"Well, my dear, it seems you may be staying with me after all." Serena could just picture the smirk on the Goblin King's smug face. "Your cousin has, regrettably, been held up at the castle gates, and I don't think that he'll be here before the thirteen hours are through. But don't worry," –for the girl had begun to cry—"you'll feel right at home here before you know it. I've already brought you a welcome present. See?"

Serena bit her lip in growing frustration. Only one flimsy curtain separated her from the Goblin King, but there was nothing she could do to intervene, and she was quite aware of her own danger, as well. He would not be happy if he discovered her here, trespassing in his castle—and wearing his clothes no less, she realized with chagrin.

And what was this present he was offering to the girl? Serena silently begged her not to take it, whatever it was.

"An apple?" the girl questioned, managing to sound scathing despite her sniffles.

"Not an ordinary apple, Emeralda." He was moving closer now, and Serena stiffened as she felt him pass her hiding place, circling the child. "Go on—take a bite. You'll see."

There was a pause, and Serena's heart lifted as she picture the girl ignoring the offering before her—then sank again as she heard a crunch.

"Now," the Goblin King said, his voice no less kind or coaxing, "you want to sleep, don't you?"

"Yes," the girl answered dazedly. "I'd like that."

"The carpet is very soft, very comfortable; wouldn't it make a lovely bed?"

There was no answer except the rustle of lace as the girl lay down on the spot.

"Good night, my dear," the Goblin King said softly, and Serena wished she could see his face, for his tone was strangely unreadable. "This is my gift—your last human dreams will be sweet ones." Then came the swish of his cape over the carpet, the creak of the door, and a fading click of boots on stone.

Serena bounded from her hiding place and stared, aghast, at the girl curled up on the floor, still gripping a small, yellow appletightly in one hand. Then she went to the window.

The goblin city was spread out below her, the Labyrinth beyond. The city gates were off to the left, and the castle gates directly across from them, far below her. Goblins swarmed around the gates, calling threats and insults to one very small figure standing alone before the entrance. A blade glinted in his hand, slashing wildly, but he was pushed back by the dozens of enemies that surrounded him, and he seemed to be tiring.

Serena looked to the clock on the wall behind her, but it gave her no hope; only ten minutes remained. Even if the boy could fight his way through the army of goblins in his path, he would never be able to navigate the room of stairs in time to save his cousin.

Even if they had gone to meet the boy, twenty minutes ago when she had arrived here, it would have been too late. Serena had failed, failed miserably. By this time tomorrow, the Goblin King would have another loyal subject to serve him, and she had been unable to do a single thing to help the girl escape that fate.

Serena went to the door and pulled it open. The maze of staircases and walkways rose to meet her as she descended the stairs; she gulped and stayed near the wall, trying not to look at anything. How was she to get out?

Hot tears of rage slipped down her face. It wasn't fair. How could she have come all this way, to the very heart of the Goblin King's fortress, only to watch the boy defeated and to be lost herself in this dizzying madhouse?

She just kept following the stairs down, wiping at her face with her voluminous sleeve, until she discovered that she could not go down any farther. She stood at a corner of the huge room, with staircases leading upward on all sides of her. She looked up; the stairs continued above her, splitting and branching to cross the room and connect the dozens of doorways. And just emerging from one doorway…

Serena shrank back against the wall, putting a vaulted walkway between herself and the Goblin King, and peered carefully up at him. He seemed preoccupied, drifting down a staircase as though completely unaware of his surroundings. He turned aside through another door, and emerged again, walking sideways on the other side of the room. He was much lower, from Serena's point of view—much closer. She readjusted her position, but she doubted he would notice even if he stepped one her; his gaze was completely vacant.

She watched with a mixture of fascination and nausea as he came to the edge of a dead-end walkway—and kept going, turning in one stride so that he stood upside-down on what had formerly been the bottom side of his path. The reverse side of a staircase that he had led him upward before now took him down, to an archway that showed the beginnings of a spiral stair.

Serena waited, but he did not reappear; having decided it was safe, she slipped out of hiding and began climbing the first stairway she could find, her mind working furiously. Could she change her direction as he had done, or was there some trick to it that she hadn't seen? And how could anyone possibly become so familiar with such a place that they seemed not to notice its existence? She strode to the edge of a platform and looked down. There, there was a doorway beyond which she saw no more insanely twisted stairs; it was only a short drop…

She took a breath and strode boldly off the edge. A feeling of triumph overwhelmed her for an instant as the floor fell out from under her, and she was certain she had done it—

Then she bit back a scream as she continued downward, the open doorway rising to swallow her up. Her desperately flailing hands caught hold of the doorframe, and she clung for dear life.

Had she ever had a more idiotic idea? She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. This was _crazy_.

A few experiments proved that she didn't have enough of a grip to pull herself up, and her sweaty fingers were starting to slip. Maybe she could drop down? She looked below her, and found herself looking at a wall, a hallway. A strip of worn carpet ran past her left side, the ceiling on her right, and directly below her hung a painting of a couple dancing in a ballroom…

Her gaze reoriented itself, her mind identified up and down, and she dropped with an 'Oof!' onto the thin old rug. She lay for a second, trying to get her breath back, then sat up with a groan.

"Never… never again…"


	12. Chapter eleven: Weaverbird

**Chapter eleven: Weaverbird**

It took Serena another hour to find her way out of the castle and into the deepening night. She was tired, bruised, and most of all, angry: angry at the Goblin King, at the Underground in general, and at her own uselessness.

She crept back into the outer corridor in the dead of night. The crystal moon hung fat and low on the horizon, casting a bluish glimmer through the smoky clouds. It was just enough light for Serena to identify the entrance to William's dwelling; from there, she limped a little way into the maze and found the out-of-the-way corner she had come to call home.

She had spent a full day cutting branches in the forest part of the Labyrinth and dragging them back here to make a rough sort of roof, stretching across the corner where two walls met; most of that time had been spent making the fastenings magically impervious to snatter goblins, along with the rest of her little corner. Her winter dress had served little purpose in the perpetual heat of the Underground, but it made a good pillow—the most comfortable part of her makeshift bed, since the rest was just a pile of leaves. There were also a few odds and ends tucked away in a corner—a few more pebbles and trinkets for her magic, and one or two useful items she'd made herself or gotten from William when she realized that what she had brought with her was insufficient. One of those items was a sewing needle and some thread to repair tears in her clothing; she'd make use of that tomorrow morning (or whenever she woke) and try to adjust the Goblin King's clothing to fit her. And she would work on a tracking spell, and try to figure out how to get back into the merfolk's lake without going down a goblin drain, and then she might find some way of persuading the hedges to communicate with her…

She'd have some time for such preparations; William had assured her that they had never had more than one visitor to the Labyrinth in a month—in fact, it had been more like six or seven, lately. She knew her general way around the Labyrinth now, so exploring wasn't quite as important as it had been; and much as she loved conversing with the worm, William probably had business of his own to take care of. So she would find other ways to occupy her time… work on improving her chances in the Labyrinth, so that the next child would not be lost… and maybe steal some sheets from the goblins, to fix this Light-forsaken bed of hers…

With plans and ideas swimming in her head, Serena dropped into an exhausted sleep. It was a good twelve hours before she stirred; when she woke, it was to the bright sun and searing heat of the Underground noonday. She sat up and ran her hands through her hair, grimacing at the rat's nest it had become and noting that she needed to make herself a comb, then took careful stock of her surroundings. There was nobody about—no reason why they should be, but Serena couldn't help checking—and none of the nearby walls had moved, so she felt safe in turning her attention to her clothing.

Serena had never been much of a seamstress, but she could at least sew a straight seam that would not come out at the first tug. And the clothing really did need to be fixed up at least a little if she was going to be running around the Labyrinth in it.

The first thing, she reflected, was to get rid of all those frills. It was _stifling_ to wear such things in this heat, and she really didn't need the adornment since she was only going to be dirty and ragged in a few days anyway. She took out her knife and began picking at the seams around the collar and cuffs; in a few minutes she had loosened the delicate threads enough to tear loose the lace. She set it aside—maybe William's missus would want it?—and went to work on the buttons. She certainly didn't need the bottom buttons, since they hung somewhere in the vicinity of her knees; she removed them and added them closer to the collar. Now the shirt at least buttoned close to her neck rather than being open down her chest. The sleeves, she decided, needed no tampering so long as she kept the cuffs tied back with a bit of string; and she would leave the tails of the shirt long, so that if she needed a bandage or a rag she could just tear off a piece.

The pants were more work; she ended up cutting the things completely apart, resizing the pieces and sewing them back together. In the end, one leg was a touch shorter than the other and the whole mess looked like it had been chewed around the edges, but she was not going to be pretty with that silly shirt, anyway, and it was better than going around in her altogether. At least, that was what she told herself.

She put the pants back on, then picked up the belt and turned it over in her hands. The buckle was an oddly shaped emblem, a sort of claw or crescent with a swirling design set in a circle in the middle. Serena recalled seeing a pendant around the Goblin King's neck that looked just the same—in fact, though his clothing had been different each time she'd seen him (the peacock!), he had always worn that necklace. Perhaps it meant something.

Serena shrugged and looped the belt around her waist, over the shirt so that it wasn't just hanging loose on her. It was something she could speculate on another time; at the moment, she had work to do.


	13. Chapter twelve: Heron

**Chapter twelve: Heron**

In the next few months—or as closely as she could reckon—Serena spent every waking moment building, practicing, investigating, testing, and planning. The tracking spell was the first thing she started on, but it also proved most difficult to finish—too much experimentation left her with no energy for anything else. So in between finding goblins to track and weaving her magic into intricate knots until her head ached, she spent a lot of time poking around in the hedge maze where she had first fallen into the merfolk's cavern.

She had little luck in that quarter; the hedges seemed to recognize her now, and they showed unmistakable signs of pleasure at any opportunity to torment her. Serena spent hours disentangling herself from overly friendly bushes and tripping over carelessly placed roots—and watching the green branches shake with laughter at her frustration.

Because it had become so difficult to traverse the hedge maze, Serena often found herself stranded at sundown in one of the forests or beside the Great Goblin Wall—once even in the Bog. She learned, painfully, that these were usually the times when she most needed to rest or to get at her supplies. A few trips into the Goblin City to snatch laundry from the lines provided her with bedding, along with a few other odds and ends; and soon she had half a dozen caches of useful objects squirreled away throughout the Labyrinth. The arrangement was not ideal—she still ended up sleeping on bare dirt or stone as often as not—but it was heartening, when she was wandering around tired and sore, to realize that there was an extra blanket or half a loaf of bread hidden nearby.

After a lot of studying and a few instances of exploding stones, Serena found a way to bespell an object so that it cast a sort of invisible light—not something she could see or feel, but which she could sense. Once it had that magical signature on it, Serena could point straight to the object with her eyes closed, even from half a mile away. She didn't know if the charm would work on a person—but then, she could always cast it on a piece of clothing or a trinket the person carried with them.

She felt more confident by the day, though the hedge region still irked her immensely. But once in a while she would look toward the castle and imagine Emeralda's sleeping face, and then she would grow melancholy—because by now that face would be unrecognizable, one more warped visage among the hundreds of goblins in the Underground. Her failure tormented her and she swore that it would not be repeated.

Her first chance to prove it came after about four months.

The object of the Goblin King's cruel game was a girl, this time. Fourteen years old and just starting to become a fairly attractive woman, Viola had wished away her young daughter after the child's father had deserted them both. Serena felt some sympathy—the girl was at her wits' end trying to care for her baby without the help of family or her so-called lover. She even wondered whether it would be better not to try and help the girl through the Labyrinth, since their situation would not be improved when they returned home; but she rebelled against the idea. Anything was better than life as a goblin.

She placed her spell on a necklace Viola wore, a little silver cross, and paralleled her path through the first few hours of the Labyrinth, clearing away as many obstacles as she could. She decided against entering the hedge maze, passing through the tunnels underneath to wait on the other side; but Viola made it through without too much trouble.

It was near the Great Goblin Wall that the problem came. The dwarf caretaker met Viola there and, after a short conversation, gave her something to eat—Serena didn't see what, exactly, but it looked like a piece of fruit. Serena was initially impressed with the little man's kindness—she hadn't thought him the generous sort—until Viola began to swoon, sliding down to sit leaning against the wall. The dwarf hurried off, muttering something about 'Jareth's games', and Serena cursed herself for a fool. So he was only the Goblin King's messenger!

Serena darted out of hiding and knelt by Viola. She waved a hand in front of the girl's face, then shook her rather roughly, but Viola remained unresponsive, her eyes open and gazing rapturously over Serena's shoulder. Serena glanced back reflexively to see what she was looking at, even though she didn't expect there to be anything at all.

There was, though. A large bubble hovered in the air, swirling with faint, colored mists. Serena frowned. There was a hint of sound on the air, of music and laughter…

But the illusion, whatever it was, was meant for Viola. Serena could not get more than a glimpse. And every moment she tried was a moment wasted…

She returned her attention to Viola. She could not wake the girl no matter how much she shook her, and she was afraid to shout lest she should draw the attention of goblins. Serena glanced again at the bubble, and in irritation swept her hand toward it; it danced out of her reach.

So that was the Goblin King's game? To drug the girl and trap her in a dream? Serena had thought the man a coward before, but this was his most spineless tactic yet. And she couldn't do anything about it.

Serena sat nearby as Viola slept away the hours. The Underground sun rolled overhead and sank low on the horizon; the crystalline moon rose; and finally, Serena faintly heard thirteen chimes in the distance. Only then did Viola stir and moan, but it was too late; as Serena looked on in horror, the girl's skin darkened and her figure shrank. By the time her eyes fluttered dazedly open, they were beady and dark in a squashed, wrinkled face. Serena retreated before the newly-formed goblin could notice her; when the Goblin King came for his subject, she did not want that creature to inform him of her presence.

So this was how the game was played. If you failed to rescue the one you'd wished away, you joined them and became a goblin yourself. Serena bit her lip. So that boy, Jonathan…

She was in poor spirits by the time she found a blanket to curl up under. Another failure… but she had learned some things, as well, like the true allegiance of the dwarf and the fate of those who couldn't solve the Labyrinth. Next time she would win. Next time.

The next time came and went, and the girl was able to rescue her brother, though Serena secretly felt she had little to do with it—Amelia had avoided most of the traps and pitfalls, and though she had been taken back to the beginning of the Labyrinth a few hours in, she more than made up for it by turning left at William's passage the second time through. Serena did allow herself some credit for steering her away from an Oubliette, though.

Then came another, a mother and her twin sons; Serena watched as she succumbed to the magic of the Goblin King's peach, but was pleasantly surprised when the woman woke not half an hour later and continued through the Labyrinth with renewed determination, winning her children back in the end. Serena had played more of a role this time, clearing out obstacles and even venturing into the hedge maze to distract the walls from their other visitor, so she felt justified in having a small celebration with William that night.

Serena no longer marked her time in days or months; it was successes and failures, how many people had visited the Labyrinth, how many new goblins had joined the King's followers. Eighteen travelers had passed through the gates, eleven of them never to leave, when Serena made two discoveries. The first was that she was becoming almost comfortable in the Labyrinth, almost at home; even the hedge maze no longer frightened her. She was adept at moving through the twisted corridors, and though it couldn't be said that she knew her way, for the way was always changing, she could get from one point to another with very little fuss.

The second discovery was that she was growing out of her roughly made pants.

In fact, looking at her reflection in a pond in the Fierys' forest, Serena found herself nearly unrecognizable. All she had to cut her hair with was her little flint knife, which generally felt like she was pulling the hairs out one by one, so she avoided trimming it as much as possible; it now hung in a long braid down to her hips, with the bangs past her eyebrows and continuously falling into her eyes. Her face was dirty, but flushed with health and vigor, and her eyes glittered quite fiercely above cheekbones that were beginning to show themselves after hiding so long behind baby fat. Her form was decidedly taller than when she had first come here, and very lean besides—and, much as it shocked her, she was finally growing the beginnings of a woman's figure. All in all, though she was scruffy and ill-kempt, she looked almost _dangerous_.

She smiled tightly and plunged her arms into the water for a wash. She _was_ dangerous, dangerous to the Goblin King and all his kind. They had avoided paying for their crimes for this long, but she would bring them their comeuppance in the end.

Somehow.

That was the rub; she had no idea how she, by herself, could make any sort of attack on the goblins. She dried her face on a somewhat clean corner of her shirt and scowled down at nothing. This was the one hole in all her years of planning and effort. Aside from helping people through the Labyrinth, what could she actually do against these creatures? They were numerous, they were armed, and they were commanded by a being that could banish her from the Labyrinth whenever he felt like it—for though she had worked out a number of spells at this point, her magic was still far below the level it would take to even contemplate challenging the Goblin King.

A crow cawed raucously overhead, and Serena smiled grimly and began jogging toward the outer corridor. Thirteen hours from now, the person who had just entered the Labyrinth would be sitting at home with the stolen child. She would make sure of it.


	14. Chapter thirteen: Magpie

**Chapter thirteen: Magpie**

The Lychen were more than happy to gossip about the newcomer, as usual. Serena leaned against the wall to listen.

"A girl, pretty girl, lost her baby brother!" one of the smaller stalks informed her, before going back to his conversation.

"—not scared, not mad; it's like she's dreaming—" one particularly large patch of Lychen was whispering to its neighbors.

"—watching her close. Maybe he likes looking at—" another chuckled.

"—an Oubliette already? What bad luck she—" sighed a third.

"—her Marie, didn't he? That's what the fairies—"

"—dwarf to take her to the—"

Serena shoved herself away from the wall and started down the corridor, shaking her head. So this Marie was going to have to start over already? She hurried to the first bottleneck and made herself comfortable in the shade where two walls met. The girl would have to pass by here; if she couldn't even get this far on her own, then she was hopeless and nothing Serena could do, short of leading her by the hand, would get her through the Labyrinth.

She didn't have long to wait; Marie came gliding around a corner within half an hour.

The Lychen were right; the girl gazed around her with dreamy eyes, as though in a trance. Her clothing was bright and loose—a gypsy, perhaps?—and her hair was in dark waves down her back. She was, Serena thought, an extraordinarily pretty young woman.

It made sense, when she thought about it, how many of the people who came to the Labyrinth were older sisters and young mothers. They were so often the ones responsible for small children, but they were inexperienced in dealing with the tantrums and upsets that came with the little ones; they might quickly become exasperated with their charges, and say things they didn't truly mean. Here was another sin to lay against the Goblin King's account: taking advantage of desperate words spoken by young girls at their wits' end. It was sickening.

Marie looked around her detachedly, getting her bearings, and then wafted down a corridor that led most directly to the castle. Serena nodded and stood—the girl had brains enough to watch where she was going, at least, and anybody could fall for an Oubliette the first time.

She threw herself into the work, clearing away obstacles, enemies, and distractions. She was worried that there seemed to be an overabundance of riddling doors this time through the Labyrinth, but after the fourth time she lurked around such a juncture, waiting for the girl, and then watched her pass through easily with what sounded like a few lines of old legends half-sung, Serena decided that Marie could handle problems of lore and logic in a singular fashion, and left her to it. It was the physical challenges that Serena tackled—dead ends, traps, and goblin patrols.

After a short moment of panic when she very nearly combined the first and last of those problems—how could she have been so stupid as to be spotted by a bunch of Nipper Sticks, anyway? And then to head straight for the corner of the hedge maze?—Serena glanced up at the sun and realized that they were making extraordinary time. Jareth had chosen the wrong victim, it seemed. Marie seemed to know almost by instinct what it had taken Serena years to learn; in fact, Serena was beginning to be jealous of the girl. And it was not, she insisted to herself, because Marie was beautiful as well as smart, mature-seeming and confident while still having so much of the dreamer in her, and even more, still very much a _human_.

It was just that, if life were fair, someone with such a talent for besting the Underground should not be free to live out her normal and happy life, while Serena felt such a binding obligation to perform this work.

These thoughts died, though, as she felt the air stir, and heard on it a voice that had grown only slightly less intimidating with familiarity. It was so close, and for a moment Serena thought that it was addressing her; but no, the Goblin King didn't know she was here, just around the corner from where he had apparently stopped the other girl.

"Hello, Marie." He greeted her as though they were friends, and Serena scowled at his nonchalance. "How have you liked your stay Underground?"

But Marie answered him in an equally pleasant voice. "This Labyrinth is just as my father used to describe it in his stories."

"It must be quite a pleasure, then, to see your dreams a reality."

"It is a fascinating experience."

"Really? That's all? Just interesting? But then, after listening to your father for so long, perhaps you find it all to be anticlimactic. It _is_ rather disturbing to me to hear the Labyrinth's secrets touted about as mere folklore and superstition—certainly they have made _your_ journey easier thus far."

At this, Marie actually laughed. "Goblin King, you ask me for my permission to make my task more difficult—by declaring the Labyrinth's ease so that you may make it harder, or by exaggerating its difficulty, so that you may turn my false words back on me. But I will not give it!"

Serena sucked in a breath. She was_ right_, the Goblin King _always_ spoke this way before throwing something particularly nasty at his victims. She mentally cursed herself for not realizing it. And she should already have known the power of words in this place; she had seen it up close and personal, what with the four Oubliettes, two Cleaners, and the Bog; and then there were the words that summoned the Goblin King, and those that defeated him…

Though he had been caught at his game, amusement was clearly audible in the Goblin King's voice when he spoke next. "Well, well. It seems you can hold your own in a battle of words, at least. A toast to your impressive mental abilities!"

For the first time, the girl sounded uncertain. "No… I'd rather not. Wine dulls the mind and senses."

"But this is not wine," the Goblin King assured her, "only peach nectar. It will do you no harm."

Serena buried her face in her hands, because she knew that Marie was well aware of the King's rule—that he spoke the truth in all things.

Sure enough, the Goblin King's words were enough to allay the girl's suspicions. "A toast then—to me if you must, but also to your generosity." There was a clink of glasses, and Serena bit her lip and closed her eyes, but she could not close her ears, and she heard clearly the soft thump as Marie slid to the ground, the delicate tinkle of shattered crystal on the flagstones, and the Goblin King's low chuckle—and then, chillingly, his voice was raised again, and there could be no mistake this time, he was addressing _her_…

"Come out from back there, little magpie; I'd like to speak to you."

Serena froze, every muscle tensed as she fought the urge to flee—she couldn't escape him in any case, but that didn't stop her from wanting to run all the same.

"You don't still think you can hide, do you? You're very noisy for someone who wishes to escape notice." Again she could just see the smirk on his face, and that gave her enough motivation at least to open her eyes and get her feet moving.

She came around the corner and planted herself directly in front of the Goblin King, arms folded across her chest and face firmly fixed in a scowl. His eyes flickered—she thought he might have been surprised—but then he grinned at her, that cocky little twist of the mouth that she so loathed, and she quickly forgot about it.

"What do you want?" she asked aggressively. He could send her Aboveground or do any number of other things to her, but she was determined that she would go out fighting in any case.

"A lot of things, few of which you would care to know or understand," he told her, apparently not noticing her tone. He looked her up and down, rolling a crystal across his palm. "For now, answers would be satisfactory."

"Answers," she repeated flatly. "That sort of requires questions, doesn't it?"

"Certainly." He made to continue, but Serena overrode him as an idea occurred to her.

"Then I'll want something in return—that's only fair."

The Goblin King's eyebrow shot up so fast that Serena was sure it would fly right off his head. He spoke slowly. "Yeees… that seems reasonable… but what did you have in mind?"

Serena thought fast. "Just some answers for me, as well—straightforward ones, mind." She didn't bother asking that he be truthful; another jerk of his eyebrow said he had noticed, and Serena experienced a sort of grim satisfaction—so he was not just playing, he really didn't know about her. That was good.

"We are agreed, then—question for question, answer for answer. Would you like to go first?"

"After you." Serena gave a slight bow and a flourish of the hand, a clear mockery.

The Goblin King's mouth quirked, and it seemed that his first question came before he could stop it: "Is that my shirt?"


	15. Chapter fourteen: Mallard

**Chapter fourteen: Mallard**

Serena colored slightly, but she couldn't lie, and anyway, there was no point. "Yes, it is." She hurried on to her own question before he could comment. "How can I get those Light-forsaken hedges to stop attacking me all the time?"

She regretted the question immediately as the Goblin King's eyebrow began dancing again. She had thought, when she demanded answers from him, that it would be a good idea to get information on the Labyrinth—who better to learn from than its master? But she realized now that any questions in that direction would reveal her weaknesses to him.

He smirked, apparently choosing to skip commenting on the realization clearly visible on her face, and replied, "Stay away from them."

"That's not an answer!" Serena accused.

"Oh, yes it is. They can't touch you if you aren't near them. Now, my question: what in the Underground did you do to my poor bushes to make them want to hurt you?"

Serena scowled down at her grubby toes. "Just tried to get them to tell me where one of your… guests had gotten to."

"And what prompted such an attempt?"

Serena returned her glare from the flagstones to his face. "It's my turn to ask a question, Goblin King. How can I go through—no. How can I get the hedges to cooperate with me?"

His grin widened. "Swear your allegiance to me, and all the Labyrinth will be on your side."

"Not blooming likely!" Serena growled, her frustration mounting. She was supposed to be getting answers! And why, _why_ was he still silently laughing at her—why wouldn't he take her seriously?

Because she was floundering, she answered herself grimly. The Labyrinth was opening to her, but she still didn't know the rules of _this_ game, of asking the right questions and twisting truths into lies. This was foreign ground to her.

But it was the Goblin King's turn, and she returned her focus to him as he asked, "Why were you questioning my hedges?"

Serena stayed silent for a moment; then a wicked smile spread across her lips. "Because I wanted answers."

The king's eyes flickered. It was not quite a blink, and it lasted only an instant; Serena thought she might have imagined it. "That doesn't tell me anything."

"It's as much as you've told me, Goblin King," she countered. "Stop playing games and I'll gladly follow suit."

He nodded slowly. "All right—no more games. For now." Then he was going, fading away into the air. "I will see you again, little magpie," came his strangely echoing voice before he disappeared entirely.

Serena backed away from the spot, not trusting whatever magic he had employed to do such a trick (_'Oh, if only I could copy that…'_). She hesitated, seeing Marie sprawled on the ground; but she could do nothing for the girl. If she got out of the grip of the poison, it was all well and good, but somehow Serena doubted it; this girl, with her dreamy eyes and clever words, would stay in the goblins' realm.

Serena started down the passage, making her way back to her haunt in the outer walks. It wasn't until she was halfway there, traversing a set of steps in an uneven patch of ground, that she remembered with a sort of vague interest that the Goblin King still owed her one answer.

As if it mattered.


	16. Chapter fifteen: Condor

**Chapter fifteen: Condor**

Serena kicked a stone ahead of her along the outer walk, just as she had been doing for the last hour. The more she thought about her conversation with the Goblin King, the worse it looked.

At first she might have been relieved—she had come face-to-face with the ruler of the Underground, and he had not even tried to banish her from his Labyrinth. But what was his motivation? Was he truly ignorant of the role she had played in assisting the humans? Or was her interference so insignificant that it wasn't worth the trouble to get rid of her? If the first, he could not remain so for long… and if the second, then how in the name of the Light was she ever going to find a way to stop the goblins permanently?

For that, she had come to realize, was exactly what she needed to do. There must be some way to break their power, some way to keep them from ever stealing another human child. But what? She might have the king swear an oath—she suspected it was magic that made him so truthful, magic that would bind him once his word was given—but how could she ever trick him into making such a promise?

That line of thought was fruitless; she returned her attention to the other matter. The Goblin King had been content merely to speak with her, but even that was enough to show her how entirely out of her depth she was. Her last answer, and the fact that he still owed her one, were, perhaps, points in her favor—but not nearly so many nor so significant as those he had scored against her. He knew one of her two great failures—the hedge maze. And if the conversation had continued, he surely would have found out about the other, her inability to tolerate the room of stairs.

That begged another question: why hadn't he continued their conversation? Why leave so abruptly? Could it have been her last answer? No, that was silly; he was far too adept at his little games to be bothered when she started playing as well. He had some other purpose, but she could not for the life of her think what it was; and she was worried that, sooner or later, it was going to come back and bite her in the rear.

However, as she gave her rock a particularly vicious kick that sent it ricocheting off the corridor wall, it came to her that she might have some idea of his purpose after all. She hadn't given it a second thought at the time, but talking wasn't the only thing he'd been doing as she stood before him. His hands had been in constant motion as he played with a crystal.

'Stupid!' she berated herself, thumping the wall with a fist. Didn't she know that those crystals always meant trouble? Wasn't she aware of the king's nasty, malicious brand of magic? What spell had he cast on her, then, while she stood there like an idiot, a sitting duck? A tracer? Or perhaps something a little stronger, something that would keep her from affecting the people who passed through the Labyrinth. Maybe he had read her mind, finding all her weaknesses; perhaps he had laid some bond on her, that would enslave her to his will. How would she know? It could have been anything!

Then she froze, eyes going wide. He could even have stolen her own magic away.

Breath fast and heart pounding, Serena snatched up a fallen branch from the ground and stared at it, willing flame from the wood. Nothing happened; she fought down a surge of panic and focused carefully on the end of the branch. 'Light,' she demanded silently, and was rewarded this time with a small, flickering flame.

She sighed in relief and watched the fire for a minute, appreciative of her power as she never had been before—then she frowned. What was a branch like this doing here? The outer corridor was far from any trees; the largest plants in the area were the brittle, dead vines that climbed the walls.

Looking around, she spotted several more branches, and she frowned harder. A slight suspicion was niggling at the back of her brain, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet, for it was awful and she didn't need any more bad news today. Still, though…

She looked around, getting her bearings, then began jogging toward her little makeshift shelter. All along the corridor, she now saw, were branches and piles of dead leaves.

Still, though, she didn't really believe it until she darted through one of the hidden openings, turned a corner, and found the ruin of her little home. She skidded to a halt. Only about half of the branches that had been her roof were still there, hanging broken and forlorn from their fastenings on the wall. The leaves from her bed were scattered, and the blanket was ripped and soiled with dirt and other, fouler things. Her cache of tools and trinkets was nowhere to be seen.

Serena stared at the mess for a minute, but there was little she could do about it; already the snatter goblins were emerging from beneath the flagstones to cart away what was left of her things. Her protective spells must have been broken. She scowled, and her hands curled into fists as she turned on her heel and stalked away. A few of the snatter goblins squealed and scattered out of her path, but she paid them no mind, even when they began shaking their miniscule fists and creatively insulting her mother.

She needed something to do, something to take her mind off of what was quickly becoming the second-worst day of her life (the first having occurred when she was a baby, and having left her with green eyes and a grudge against all goblins and one in particular). She needed a distraction—and a visit to William seemed like just the thing. She marched back into the outer corridor, turned right, and promptly tripped over a branch.

It took all of her self-control not to burst into a screaming fit right there on the ground. The stone was hard, and she just didn't need this on top of everything else. She sat very, very still for a few moments, eyes closed and lips pressed firmly together, before slowly climbing to her feet, dusting off her backside, and looking down at the object that had tripped her.

Something about the branches just lying here in the corridor should bother her—and it wasn't just that they had recently belonged to her roof. Then she heard a very faint shout, sounding something like "You fragging so-and-sos can go dunk your heads in the Bogga-Bog!", and it came to her. Why were the snatter goblins not cleaning this up? They had been quite eager to cart away all traces of her former home deeper in the Labyrinth, so what would they have against picking up the rest of it out here?

As if in answer to her question, a very small head poked itself out from the opening Serena had just come through. It looked around, then waved behind it, and a troupe of ten or twelve snatter goblins darted toward the branch that had tripped Serena.

Immediately, there came a scream of rage and an angry buzzing. The snatter goblins looked up in fear and beat a hasty retreat as a horde of fairies swarmed over the wall and began chasing after them. Serena looked on in fascination. One or two peeled off and came in her direction, but she swatted them away—she knew better by now than to feel sympathy for the little pests, for their bites were quite painful.

Once the snatter goblins were gone, the fairies returned to their side of the wall. Serena shook her head, a grin slowly forming. Now if only they were larger, perhaps she could convince the fairies to attack full-sized goblins… that would solve all her problems.

Feeling rather better, Serena turned and continued down the corridor toward William's burrow. She was still smiling when the ground fell out from beneath her.


	17. Chapter sixteen: Puffin

**Chapter sixteen: Puffin**

Serena had not been expecting this here, in the outer corridor, but her time in the Labyrinth had sharpened her reflexes enough that she still caught herself on the edge of the hole. Dangling by her fingertips, she cursed wildly as she tried to haul herself up. An Oubliette _here_!? Since when were they even needed, this far away from the Goblin City? 

But no… it wasn't an Oubliette, was it? Her toes scrabbled against bare stone, and she heard none of the distorted voices she had come to expect from the Helping Hands. This shaft must lead elsewhere.

She finally extracted herself from the hole, and lay panting beside it for a few moments before getting up to examine it. A particularly large flagstone had dropped open, hinged along one side like a trapdoor, to reveal a plain, dark stone shaft. But perhaps not so plain… She reached down into the hole, submerging her arms up to the shoulders, and felt around. A smile slowly formed on her face as she realized that the shaft did not lead directly down, but rather fell away at a slant.

She looked at her surroundings. There was nothing to mark this particular stretch of corridor, but she had a vague sense of where she was in relation to William's burrow and a few of the more familiar openings. And hadn't she just learned that snatter goblins wouldn't clean the outer corridor? She grabbed two twigs lying nearby and placed them in an x near the wall, before thrusting her legs into the tunnel. She didn't even think about what a very, very bad idea this might be until she was barreling down the slide at full speed.

The darkness was disorienting, and the tunnel took several twists and turns, but Serena felt sure of her destination as the air grew cool and damp. She was just wondering when the ride would end—it was taking much longer than the first time, wasn't it?-- when the slide dropped out from under her.

She spent her few moments in the air praying that it would be water, not stone, beneath her when she landed. Then came the impact.

She had forgotten the gasping cold of the merfolk's lake; now it seized her body with all the violence of the first time. She broke the surface gasping and choking, already wracked with shivers. She reached toward her pocket for her light-stone, then realized that it wasn't there—it had been scattered along with the pieces of her house.

Then again, perhaps it was best that she didn't have it. With no other light around her, the star-like crystal on one wall shone out clearly, a speck of burning gold in the darkness. She started for it, then paused and aimed herself a bit to the right. The gold marked the place Regati had left her, she remembered, the part of the lake where the water was fouled. Had it spread further in her absence? Perhaps. Best to take no chances, and stay where Regati could reach her if he tried.

It was slow going; she hadn't had a chance to swim since last time she'd fallen into the underground lake. And that time, Regati had towed her most of the way toward land. But she'd come out closer to shore this time, she thought, and she was stronger now than she was then.

The point of gold was her only means of judging distances, and it seemed to be drawing no nearer; but after a time, she glanced off to her right and found that she could now see the blue crystal as well. As she came closer to shore, the two markers seemed to draw further apart—she filed that away as something that might be useful in the future.

Just as she began to see the faint line of phosphorescence along the shore, Serena heard a mighty splash behind her. She barely had time to turn around before something came barreling into her, lifting her partway out of the water and then dunking her under. She couldn't decide between joy and fear—was it her friend, or was she under attack? 

When she broke the surface, gasping and spluttering once more, she found herself face-to-face with a—mermaid?

It was not Regati, of that she was certain. Regati had been slender, but he had been obviously male, and the creature before her was most definitely female—the loose wrap twined around her torso was plastered wetly to her figure and did very little to disguise it. What Serena first took to be a skirt was actually a set of fins that sprouted from the girl's hips. Where Regati was pale blue, this mermaid was jade green, with hair that was almost emerald. The very only thing in which she resembled Regati was the large, mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Oh, hello," Serena said, returning the smile.

"Siren-nah?" the mermaid questioned, and Serena nodded. Plainly, Regati had related the story of their meeting to the other merfolk. "Te Melnone. Melnone," she repeated at Serena's look of confusion, and tapped herself lightly on the chest. "Melnone."

"Oh!" Serena grinned. "Nice to meet you, Melnone." Then, after a moment's thought, she added, "Where is Regati?"

At the mention of the merman, Melnone launched into a long, rapid string of syllables in her own language that Serena was at a loss to decipher. Then she grabbed Serena's wrist and began towing her the way that she had come, away from the shore.

She was not nearly so gentle about it as Regati had been; she ploughed ahead with hardly a thought for the girl she was dragging, and Serena had to struggle just to keep her head above water. It was a losing battle; she swallowed as much water as air, and whenever she would open her mouth to protest, another wave would slap her in the face. So she shut her mouth and clung grimly to the mermaid, hoping that they got to wherever they were going quickly. 

It was only a few minutes, though it seemed an eternity, before Melnone slowed and released her grip on Serena's wrist. Serena rubbed the injured limb and tried to gather some shred of dignity, or at least catch her breath. Before she was anywhere near recovered, though, Melnone gave another incomprehensible speech and disappeared beneath the water.

Serena was left to tread water in the silent darkness and shiver. It wasn't until the mermaid left that Serena realized how clearly she had been able to see Melnone; she had been very faintly luminescent, like the line along the shore of the lake. But now she was gone, and Serena was once more blind. She could have tried to swim for one of the crystal markers—those, at least, stood out clear in the darkness—but she didn't think she had the energy for a second attempt after being towed back this far-- besides which, it seemed that Melnone wanted her to stay here. _'Either that,'_ she thought cynically, _'or she's trying to drown me.' _

She had been waiting for at least ten minutes and was just beginning to consider that theory a distinct possibility when the water began to churn. All around her the surface of the lake splashed and frothed like a pot on the boil. Before Serena had time to become properly alarmed, though, an entire troupe of merfolk—_'What would you call that? A school?'_ she wondered bemusedly—surfaced around her.

Some of them, like Melnone, shone faintly in the dark; combined, it was enough to bathe the whole circle in a light rather like moonglow. They were of all ages, men and women, in every imaginable shade of green, blue, and gray, with here and there a pale pink or lavender mixed in. All had long flowing hair; all the women and a few of the men were clothed in loose, light fabrics which, above water, clung tightly to their slender forms; and all were staring at her curiously and whispering to their neighbors—some apparently trying to seem polite and not hurt her feelings, others openly pointing and staring.

Then a pair of pale blue arms wrapped around her from behind and lifted her partway out of the water. "Siren-nah! Ungi Siren! Ya el-el asei-chk se! Trem kessa gle-glin. Se taurma?"

"Regati!" Serena squealed, and twisted in his grip to fling her arms around his neck. "Light, I was starting to think you'd never show up! Who are all these people?" she asked, gesturing around at the crowd that surrounded them.

Regati loosened his grip on her, but still held on to one hand. He was grinning from ear to ear and he didn't seem to have heard her question at all-- either that, or he was choosing to ignore what he couldn't understand.

"Se urashee kessa," he informed her, gesturing first to her and then holding his arms wide apart. He was exaggerating, but he was right—she had grown. "Ve-chk 'ungi', mor 'Siren', kre yura!"

"Well, you've changed too, Regati," she said, reaching up to rub the bald patch on top of his head. "You're _old_!" He laughed out loud at that.

"Oul-duh? Se jongle te _rongi_? Rongi? Oul-duh?"

"All right, rongi, then!"

"Ve-chk! Te _ungi_ tata gle-glin!"

"Rongi!" she taunted, laughing.

"Ungi!" he insisted, flicking water in her direction.

Serena giggled and splashed him back, then remembered their audience. "Um, Regati…" She gestured wordlessly to the crowd of merfolk floating in the water around them. Some were laughing along with them, others obviously confused by the exchange, but all seemed to be waiting for something.

At that, Regati became a bit more serious, though a smile still played around the corners of his mouth. "Rebena mege-chk kasei-chk se urlula. Urlula," he repeated, and uttered a few notes of the merfolk's unearthly song to remind her of the meaning. "Se urlula." He tapped her lightly on the chest.

Serena laughed in disbelief. "You want me to sing?" Regati merely looked at her expectantly. "But why?"

Regati shook his head, pleading all the more urgently. "Se urlula, Siren-nah. Kamate-chk? Kamate-chk urlula?"

Serena was still confused, but it seemed so important to him… It was hard to remember the words after so long—she'd had so little reason to want to sing of late—but she began haltingly.

_"Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, __  
__Long, long ago, long, long ago, __  
__Sing me the songs I delighted to hear, __  
__Long, long ago, long ago…" _

As she sang, all the merfolk became silent and still; but gradually, they slipped further away, leaving an open circle into which floated three mermaids. All wore strings of pearls in their pale hair and long silvery capes that flowed like liquid down their backs; all were serene and exceptionally beautiful. Serena faltered on seeing them, but Regati squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she continued.

_"Now you are come all my grief is removed, __  
__Let me forget that so long you have roved. __  
__Let me believe that you love as you loved, __  
__Long, long ago, long ago..." _

The three mermaids spread out around the two friends, circling slowly. Their solemn eyes were fixed on Serena, listening intently to her song, and when she began the second verse, they joined in, their melodious voices creating a wordless harmony behind the words.  
_  
__"Do you remember the paths where we met? __  
__Long, long ago, long, long ago. __  
__Ah, yes, you told me you'd never forget, __  
__Long, long ago, long ago…"_

They circled faster now, and their voices rose, seeming to fill the great cavern with something light and almost tangible, an airy beauty that caused the darkness to recede a little. Indeed, they were shining more strongly than any of the merfolk before; their light began like the pale reflection of foxfire but rose with their song until it too seemed almost solid to the touch, raising rainbows from every surface it touched and bathing the circle in warmth.  
_  
__"Then to all others, my smile you preferred, __  
__Love, when you spoke, gave a charm to each word. __  
__Still my heart treasures the phrases I heard, __  
__Long, long ago, long ago…"_

Serena realized that they were beginning to spin, the water around them whirling in response to the circular motion of the three.

_"Tho' by your kindness my fond hopes were raised, __  
__Long, long ago, long, long ago…"_

The chorus broke its bounds now, rising in wild cries, but rather than drown Serena out it seemed her voice was lifted up above all others.  
_  
__"You by more eloquent lips have been praised, __  
__Long, long ago, long, long ago…"_

Was it just her imagination that the three mermaids were rising higher above her—that they rode tall waves at the edges of the circle?

_"But, by long absence your truth has been tried, __  
__Still to your accents I listen with pride…"__  
_  
No, there could be no mistaking it—she was at the center of a whirlpool, she and Regati, and as the water began to tower over their heads she could barely summon the strength to continue; but the song gripped her now and would not release her, and clinging tightly to Regati's side, reassured in his presence, she uttered the last lines.  
_  
__"Blessed as I was when I sat by your side. __  
__Long, long ago, long ago."_

Serena tightened her grip on Regati as the water closed over her head; above her, the three mermaids continued to sing, but their voices quickly grew distant as all light faded.


	18. Chapter seventeen: Flying Fish

**Chapter seventeen: Flying Fish**

Her first sensation on waking was of complete weightlessness. Her arms drifted casually at her sides; her head lolled easily back, resting on nothing. It was a very peaceful, comfortable feeling, and she merely enjoyed it for a while, not even bothering to open her eyes.

Something tickled her shoulder, her sides, and it was this that woke her fully—the awareness of touch. She was too content to become really annoyed at the interruption, but she felt vaguely curious as to what could be causing it.

She opened her eyes.

The place was dimly lit, and it was difficult to say where the light came from. But it was enough for her to see a very smooth, slightly curved wall a few feet from her eyes. It was of some pale blue-grey material which she hesitated to identify as stone because of the continuous, unjointed surface, and was lightly painted with curling, graceful designs in darker blue and faintly metallic silver.

This sight was beautiful and calming—as if she needed it at the moment; never had she been so relaxed—and she was content to stare at it for some undefined period of time. It might have been moments or hours; she had no sense of it. But that didn't matter at all.

Thought during that stretch of time was a vague, slow thing, utterly calm and fairly unimportant. Her mind drifted as easily as her body seemed to; but after some time, it came to her that she should know which way down was. She did not know. She couldn't feel it. This made her uncomfortable.  
She moved her eyes, then her head, trying to find down. Partway through this endeavor she became distracted by a discovery—that her hair had been loosened from its braid and was streaming in all directions, and that it was this that had tickled her awake. She shook her head again, experimentally, and her hair flowed in waves along the edges of her vision. This was amusing; her lips curved in a lazy smile, and she did it again.

With the slowly escalating movement, though, came a further discomfort. It took her some time to pin it down, but finally she realized that her body was not moving quite as it ought to be. It felt different. She raised her hands into her line of vision, and mused over her discovery. The flesh was smooth and a very pale rose, subtly different from its former color; her fingers were tipped with long, sharp nails; and a lacy frill, spotted with darker pink and brown, emerged from her wrist, stretching up the outside of her forearm and floating loosely.

This should disturb her.

It did not.

Further exploration revealed that her torso was loosely wrapped in thin, pale green fabric that drifted as lightly as the rest of her. It left her stomach bare, and she was amused to discover that she no longer had a belly button. This also should bother her, she thought, but it was just so funny!

Her eyes continued further down, and she was surprised to find that in place of legs, she had a long, serpentine tail, graced with lacy fins at the tip and more sprouting from her hips. They were just the same as the ones on her wrists—pale rose with spots and rings of pink and brown.

This was strange. She would very much like a mirror now.

She glanced around the room—it _was_ a room, she saw now, enclosed on all sides. But at the same time, it was unlike any place she had ever seen—the patterned walls curved smoothly into each other, producing an irregular space in which there was no way to distinguish floor or ceiling from any other wall. In places there were light nets fixed to the surfaces, holding a variety of objects, most of which she could not name. Here was a comb, and there were more cloths like the one she wore now, but what was that curved stick with a groove running down its length? Or the disc of polished stone, the outside edge notched unevenly and what looked like a handle sticking up from the center?

She also saw two openings in the walls—not circular, but rounded, and both blocked by drifting cloth. Almost like curtains, except they seemed to be loosely attached all the way around.

Finally, she spotted something that would serve her purpose—one of the wall-surfaces was polished reflectively smooth, fading into the regular walls at the edges. It was still painted with the swirling designs, but it would do. 

Serena pondered for a while on how to reach it. She didn't know how to move through… whatever was holding her up. She waved her arms experimentally, but that merely spun her around. Then she flicked her tail, and began to drift a bit.

It took several tries and a few unfortunate run-ins with the walls, but finally Serena managed to drift close enough to the mirror to make out her reflection.

A mermaid looked back at her, with soft, rosy skin and a faint smile on her lips. She was skinny even for that elegant race, with long, gangly arms and thin shoulders; the only thing that defined her hips was the set of fins sprouting from them. But she didn't mind; she had never been a beauty in any case. Her hair, still the same dark brown, floated in waves around her; her bangs drifted before her face, nearly obscuring her eyes, but not enough that she couldn't see the change: they held neither pupil nor white, just smooth, unbroken green.

She was still drifting in front of the mirror, studying her reflection, when one of the odd curtains drew back and Melnone entered. She twisted as she came, so that she was oriented the same way as Serena, with her head toward a particularly intricate bit of patterning on one wall; she came to a stop floating just behind the girl's left shoulder. 

Serena shifted her eyes to meet Melnone's reflected gaze. "Hello," she said, and frowned.

Her voice was _wrong_; it was too high, too soft, with a clear, echoing quality like a bell. It was a beautiful voice, like that of a princess in a storybook. It was wrong.

This was the first time that any of the changes had truly disturbed her. _That_ was wrong as well; this was not something that happened every day. Where was she? How had she come here? What had happened to her? And why?

The utter calm that had overcome her mind stretched thin with these questions, and she pushed instinctively against it. She shouldn't be calm right now, she ought to be screaming her head off!

Lucidity crashed back on her like a wave, and brought memory with it; her eyes stretched wide and she gave a strangled little squeak, her body curling in on itself as she tried very hard not to panic. She jerked when Melnone laid a hand on her arm.

"Ve-chk honta, Siren-nah. Se taurma." She watched with great concern until Serena regained some shred of composure, breathing deeply and trying to relax. Nothing really bad had happened yet; Melnone was not worried or surprised by her transformation, so neither should she be. It was still several minutes, though, before she had sufficient control over herself to speak again.

"Regati?" she questioned weakly, and Melnone nodded and moved toward the doorway she had first come through. _Swam_ to the doorway. They must be underwater. But it felt just like air. Serena's mind, jumping from thought to random thought, flickered past the question of whether a fish knew it was wet and settled on the problem of how to follow Melnone.

It proved even harder to coordinate her strange new body now that she had her mind to contend with; thought became the enemy as she tried to equate fins with feet. She flapped her tail awkwardly, but it felt nothing like the easy movements she had seen Melnone make, and it sent her spinning off toward a wall.

Melnone turned and swam back to take her by the hand. "Se ve-chk merre-chk?" Serena shook her head, and Melnone sighed. Gently she tugged at Serena's hand, flicking her tail just slightly to tow her to the doorway. 

Gradually Serena adjusted to her new form, as Melnone led her out into another room and down a gently curved passage. As she experimented, she gained a sense of how to move—she was still clumsy, but at least she was going in the general direction that she wanted. She discovered that she could move the fins on her hips to turn and, after another near miss with a wall, she let go of Melnone's hand to make her own way down the hall.

It opened to a vast space that, after some examination, Serena realized was the lakebed. She immediately flipped herself upright; she had been oriented with her head down at an angle and her tail stretching above her. But still, her vision was the only thing that told her which way was down; she felt nothing, not the slightest pull toward the sandy bottom. Whay was that?

She was distracted from her musings on the subject by the sound of her name—or what passed for it, among merfolk. "Siren-nah! Se yasi! Se taurma?"

Serena smiled a bit, though she still looked troubled. "I'm fine, considering… what's going on, Regati?" she asked, knowing he couldn't answer but needing to voice the question anyway.

The merman just shook his head. "Glin-gle. Se ronet?"

Now there was a word she remembered. "Yes!" she told him, just as her stomach confirmed it with an almighty rumble.

"E-yess," he imitated her with a grin. "E-yess ti _rama_. Rama. Se ori 'rama'?"

"Rama," Serena repeated diligently, and Regati grinned. "El-el! Gle rebene freg." And he took her hand and led her off to find something to eat.


	19. Chapter eighteen: Goldfish

A/N: I apologize profusely for making you all wait this long! I haven't been here in months; I'd almost forgotten about this fic. It won't happen again, and to make up for it, you get three chapters at once.

**Chapter eighteen: Goldfish**

Raw fish, Serena thought, was soon going to get very, very old. It was bad enough to eat it at all; but it seemed to be the staple of the merfolk's diet, and was served with very little to accompany it at morning, noon, and night. Or whenever it was that they were eating; there was no sun here to mark the passage of time. There were periods when most of the merfolk were awake and other times when most slept; but she had no idea how they kept track, or how long their 'day' was in comparison to what she was used to.

Fish and darkness were not the worst problems, though. Serena was glad that Regati stayed by her side; he was patient and seemed to understand her far better than anyone else in the lake. Melnone was a help, too, but she became frustrated when she didn't know what Serena was saying.

Both of them tried, though, and gradually Serena found herself adjusting to life underwater. Regati taught her more of the language—Merremin was the word he used, both for the speech and the people—and day by day she found it easier to converse with him. Her Merremin was slow and halting, but basic communication was now within her reach and things were coming clearer all the time. She didn't truly realize how much she had learned, though, until she began to join the dinner conversation and the marketplace gossip.

It was Regati as well who introduced her to the culture—the daily markets, the strange aquatic dances, even the royal court. He seemed to take delight in her expressions of awe and her exclamations of "Elalsei, elalsei!"—'It's beautiful, beautiful!" Each day he showed her something new—the deep chasm in the lakebed where greenery grew in great waving falls down the sides and the glittering crystals lined the bottom; the great fields of freshwater mussels, which, when Regati picked one up and coaxed it open, proved to contain growing pearls; the swift-flowing current that ran along one side of the lake; the seaweed forests where they were greeted by Merremin fish-herders. Serena woke after each rest to hear his voice outside her room, calling her to see another gorgeous sight; and she fell asleep smiling over the day's adventures.

The room where she stayed was like most of the other Merremin dwellings—an irregular bubble-like chamber sunk into the rock under the sandy lakebed, which could be reached only by sinuously curved tunnels through the stone. Many, like hers, were single, but other were comprised of several chambers interconnected by short tunnels that did not touch the surface. A good number of the existing homes were unoccupied, and Regati explained, when she knew enough Merremin to understand, that the lake had once held so many Merremin that there had not been enough food to go around, and so many had died and left their houses empty. This was 'kessa gle-glin', a long time ago, but there had been no need to build homes since.

Serena liked the one that Regati had chosen for her, with its beautiful wall paintings and peaceful colors. It was comfortable, and Regati made sure to supply her with whatever she needed—mostly clothing, for she found that the easy life in the lake left her desiring little. Aside from this, he also gave her a multitude of little presents—hair combs carved from delicate shells, tiny figures of fish and water flowers carved from crystal and adorned with gems, enough strings and ropes of pearls for an entire land-dwelling court, and even a large, brightly-colored fish with gold rings through its fins that followed her around her room and nibbled at her hair. She would have protested such rich-seeming gifts, but before she could learn the language to do so politely, she visited Regati in his own home and found it adorned with so many beautiful artworks and jewels that her own treasure trove seemed small by comparison. It made sense, though—the Merremin had access to all manner of beautiful materials and all the time in the world to craft them into such finery—and of course, things were seldom broken when there was water to slow any fall, or lost when much of the lakebed was nearly-bare sand.

One thing for which Serena had no need was a bed. Aside from the curtains in each doorway, the nets for holding their belongings, and a few scattered shelves for displaying prized possessions, the Merremin showed no interest in furniture. It was far more comfortable to simply let oneself float and drift in the water, whether sleeping or merely resting, than to curl up against something solid. At first the bare rooms seemed stark and cold to Serena, but gradually she grew accustomed to it, and came to appreciate the open space in which to drift. So Serena came to love the new life to which she had been introduced, but there were still two small things that bothered her.

One was the slow, languid state of mind which so often caught her unawares. She would go to check her appearance in the mirror and suddenly find that she had spent hours smiling faintly at her own reflection; she would go for a swim through the seaweed forests and then come to herself drifting far outward from the city, toward the edge of the lake. It was frustrating and even frighteneing for her whenever she did so. She was afraid that at some time she would enter such a stupor and never wake from it—she would swim right into some danger, or simply waste away because she was too preoccupied with nothing to bother feeding herself.

Regati merely smiled at her when she explained her concerns. _It is nothing, Siren-nah; only the Peace. You will enjoy it if you let yourself. And it will not bring you harm._

But Serena simply could not be comfortable with the idea that she should, without warning, lose control of her own body and mind; and she tried to keep herself busy to prevent the Peace from coming on her. It was tiring, but not impossible; after a while, she lapsed only occasionally into that odd silence of mind, and she could usually shake herself out of it within a few minutes.

Regati was concerned when he realized this._ It is not well that you should deny yourself the Peace. It is natural and normal for all the Merremin—even you, Siren-nah._

_"So I should simply let my mind drift away whenever it is inclined to do so?_ she had questioned sarcastically.

_Yes! You should accept the Peace—even call it to you, if you feel troubled and wish for rest._

_Call it? Just let myself drift like a weed in the current? How under earth is that a good thing?_

Regati raised a hand to massage his temple. _It rests the mind._

_Sleep does that too—and I get plenty of that. I don't need to waste hours on end staring at water!_

_No good will come of it if you continue to fight yourself, Siren-nah._

But he had given up trying to reason with her after that, and Serena kept on as she had been, always alert lest the Peace should sneak up on her.

The other problem with life as a Merremin was the impossibility of returning to the surface, at least right away. This, too, Regati explained to her as soon as she could understand.

_The Sireni, the witches, they asked me to have you sing, so that they could find what was most like them—like us—in your song and call it forth from you. But they cannot call forth what they do not know. They cannot return you to what you were. No Siren could, unless she had been a land-walker._ Serena had despaired, but Regati continued._ But you know that part of yourself, and once you learn the Siren song, you will be able to go back to it whenever you choose. You will learn the song, of course; you have it in you, because it is the same stuff that let you call light from a stone._

"Magic?" she had asked, in her own tongue because she did not know his word for it.

_Siren song,_ he told her.

So when the time came that she no longer needed Regati's translations and she knew the ways of the lake, when she had a taste for raw fish and could call all her neighbors and city friends by name, then Regati led her one morning to the only standing structure in the lake: the silvery spike of the royal palace—or, as she had come to know it, the Sireni's Keep.


	20. Chapter nineteen: Hawkfish

**Chapter nineteen: Hawkfish**

The Keep had many entrances on every floor, but Regati led her to one near the top of the shining tower, perhaps thirty feet below the surface. This seemed to be the main entrance; the huge archway was ornately carved, and the deep indigo curtains were pulled back to admit a constant trickle of Merremin coming in and out of the building.

Serena swam through, trying to take in all the sights without looking too overawed; she must have failed, though, because Regati was grinning at her expression.

The place was gorgeous, from the vaulted ceiling arched high overhead to the elaborate mosaic floor, everything was richly decorated and awash with soft, elegant color. The ceiling was of black obsidian, polished to perfect smoothness and set with thousands, perhaps millions of crystals to form a clear night sky; opposite the doorway, partially hidden by the long, narrow columns that lined the circular room, was a huge disk of silver, unevenly polished to create a perfect image of the full moon. A similar picture was central to the intricately tiled floor; around it swirled a merman and –maid, their hands joined across the center of the circle and long fins trailing outward. More merfolk were twined around the slender columns, the carvings differing from life only in their great size and soft grey color. The walls were lined with tapestries in shades of blue, depicting merfolk haloed with light.

That was it, Serena thought; that was the detail that had been just begging to be noted. It was not uncommon, when going to market or swimming through the city, to see several merfolk surrounded by a shimmer of light; but here, there were so many in one place. Nearly everyone in the great hall gave a soft, rich glow, rendering any other light unnecessary.

They were scattered among the columns and grouped near the edges of the room— some around small tables, Serena noticed, which would have been strange except that so much about the Keep was at odds with the rest of the underwater realm. There was talk, in the fluid tones and abrupt clicks of the Merremin tongue, but more strongly from every direction came the haunting, wordless song that had so entranced Serena from the moment she first heard it.

A mermaid detached herself from a group near the top of the archway and swam down to meet them. She was old and frail-looking, but her gaze held authority. Her pale gold skin shaded darker on her arms and her tail, almost the same color as her deep amber eyes. Ropes of black pearls were braided into her snowy white hair and dangled from her neck, wrists, waist, and tail—a fortune in rare gems, almost ridiculously excessive, and yet it seemed natural on her.

Regati swam a few strokes to meet the woman, bowing his head respectfully and reaching a hand toward her; not until she gently touched his upraised palm did he meet her solemn gaze. She surveyed him in silence, then looked over his shoulder and addressed Serena, who had hung back, unsure of protocol.

_Come near me, child. You are called Siren-nah, yes?_ she continued as Serena did as she was bidden.

Serena was unsure of how to address the regal mermaid; Regati, sensing her hesitation, answered for her. _Yes, Your Eloquence._

_Is this your name, or a title?_

_My name, Your Eloquence,_ Serena answered, finding her voice. _I certainly haven't earned the right to be called a Siren—but you know that._ Serena's fins twitched with her discomfort; she was reminded yet again that, when nobility entered the picture, she didn't even know the rules of the game.

However, the aged Siren gave a sudden smile. _Be at ease, child. I don't bite._ Her eyes flickered with amusement, and Serena suddenly realized just what a beauty the woman must have been in her youth.

_Now, then. I hope you'll forgive us for just calling you Nah—usually, to name someone Siren while in their presence is an honor reserved only for the greatest of us. I head the Council of Nine, yet I have never been called so._ Serena nodded hastily, and the mermaid continued. _You may address me as Regati has shown you, but since you are to be a student here, it might be more prudent for you to speak to me as you will your other teachers—with respect, but by name. I am Tribelline._

Serena gave a small bow. _An honor, Tribelline._ The stiff formality had fled from the atmosphere, and with it Serena's unease.

_Likewise, young Nah. Now, let me introduce you to another of your teachers. Seflo!_ she called, and a young merman floating nearby looked around and, when he saw who was calling, swam over.

_Ah, you must be Nah._ He grinned, and Serena found herself smiling as well—his enthusiasm was infectious. _I've heard a lot about you—it was you who set the crystals glowing in the wall above the surface, wasn't it? How did you--_

_Later, perhaps?_ Tribelline suggested lightly, and Seflo's pale green skin darkened a few shades in a blush. _I'm sure Nah will be happy to explain her methods in a little while. But first, she has neither seen the rest of the Keep nor had its workings explained. Since you'll be her first teacher as she learns the most basic Songs, perhaps you would also like to show her how things are done here?_

Seflo nodded mutely, and Tribelline turned to Regati. _This is where you part ways._

Regati also nodded, then pulled Serena into a quick hug. _You'll do well, little Siren,_ he murmured in her ear. _I'm certain of it. We will not see each other for many days, but know that you are in my thoughts._

_And you in mine,_ she told him. _Thank you—for everything._

Then they separated and, with a last wave, Regati had departed from the Keep. Serena wanted to watch until he was out of sight, but Seflo patted her shoulder and said, _Don't worry—you'll be so busy, you won't have time to miss him, and he'll be here for a visit before you know it. Come—do you want to see where you'll be staying?_

So Serena followed behind Seflo as he led her toward the edge of the room. There was a gap in the floor there, and they went through it to the next level below them. The room was smaller than the one above, less richly decorated, with curtained openings leading to a hallway and other chambers on the same floor. Songs and chants could be heard from behind some of the curtains. _This floor and the next few below it are used for group lessons. You'll join in with these once you've learned the first few Songs._ He smiled. _It won't be long, I'm certain. Oh, and the lower the floors, the more advanced the lessons._ He continued down through openings in the hallway floors, until they came to a wide-open chamber. The walls had no openings to the outside, and were draped in tapestries without images, only swirls of blue. The floor and ceiling were tiled in a similar pattern. In the center of the room, floating without anything to support it, was a spherical black stone, polished to perfect smoothness.

_Here is where the Sireni meet when a great working needs to be done, one that needs many Voices,_ Seflo explained. _That stone is the Eye of the Keep. Any Siren can use it, if he knows the right Song for what it is he wishes to see. It's said that sometimes an image will come to it unbidden, when the Water or the Stone wishes something to be known, but I have never seen it do so._

_It's… a seer-stone?_ Serena asked, swimming forward to lay a hand on the polished surface.

_Don't touch it, Nah!_ Seflo bolted forward and caught her wrist._ If anyone touches it, strange things can happen—sometimes dangerous things._

_Oh._ Serena backed away hastily, feeling like an imbecile. _I'm sorry._

_It's all right. Better that you find out now. Are you ready to go on?_

Seflo led Serena out through another hole in the floor, into the Sireni's living area, then that of the students; he passed it quickly, saying that they would return, and showed her through the dining hall (grabbing a bite to eat on the way—they had missed lunch), the kitchens (which were unlike any kitchen Serena had ever heard of, with no way to heat food and little in the way of dishes), and the storage rooms beyond.

_There are deeper chambers,_ he concluded, _going far into the rock, but they are not much used. You can explore them later, if you like. But for now, it's probably best that you should settle into your room before dinner._

So they swam back upward a few levels, and Seflo led her to a small room just off the main hallway. It was mostly empty, but some of her belongings had been delivered and were lying in a bundle in the middle of the floor.

_There will be a call in a while for dinner—you remember how to get to the dining hall, I'm sure. Until then, make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, find me—I'll be in my room. Any Siren can give you directions._ He smiled at her and patted her shoulder. _I'm glad to be teaching you, Nah. There's no doubt that you'll be a great Siren some day—probably sooner than you expect._

With that, he left her to her own devices. Serena arranged her few belongings in the nets on the silver-grey walls, then cast around for something to occupy herself. She was still looking for ideas when the Peace crept over her, leaving her drifting absently in the middle of the room.


	21. Chapter twenty: Clownfish

**Chapter twenty: Clownfish**

The Hall of Voices was darkened, like the rest of the Keep; the Sireni slept. Serena slowly circled the great stone in the center of the chamber. The Eye was as dark as ever, empty of any enlightening image, but in the silence she heard a slight hum, almost beyond the edge of hearing. It was very, very quiet, yet it seemed to Serena that it had increased in the few minutes she had been in the room. The great seerstone was calling, and she felt she should answer, but how?

Slowly, she reached out to touch the stone.

_Nah?_

Serena jerked and looked around in confusion. She was disoriented; it took her a moment to realize where she was. But then the silvery walls and her own scattered belongings registered in her mind. Her room? But she had been in the Hall, she was certain of it…

_Nah?_ came the voice again, and she recognized it as Seflo. He was beginning to sound concerned. _You didn't come to dinner. Are you all right? Are you even in there?_

_Y-yes, I—dinner? I missed it?_ She swam to the entryway and pulled back the curtain to admit her teacher. He entered, looking puzzled and still a little worried.

_Didn't you hear the call? Dinner finished half an hour ago. What were you doing?_

_I was—I don't know._ Serena frowned. _I had just finished putting my things away… but then I was in the Hall of Voices. But then you called and I was here… so it must have been a… dream, or something?_ She shook her head. _I'm sorry, I must have dozed off. I'm still a little confused,_ she admitted with chagrin.

Seflo smiled gently. _Don't worry. It will pass. I brought you something, since you missed the meal._ He offered a small cloth bundle, which proved to contain two small fish and a spray of feathery seaweed. Serena hesitated before she started to eat; she had, of necessity, become accustomed to the merfolk's diet, but that didn't mean she liked it.

Seflo noticed her distaste. _I'm sorry. Do you dislike the white ones?  
_  
_Not more than any other kind,_ she told him, resignedly picking scales off of a chunk of flesh before she put it in her mouth.

_Landwalker food is very different, then?_ he asked curiously, and Serena soon forgot her earlier confusion in trying to explain the taste of bread to someone who knew nothing except what could be prepared underwater. The concept of cooking fascinated him, and Serena described in great detail the techniques used. He laughed when she told him about frying a fish for Regati.

It was a long while before either of them felt the need for sleep; but eventually Serena's eyelids began to droop, and Seflo excused himself. _We'll have our first lesson tomorrow morning. Meet me in the Hall of Voices as soon as you finish your breakfast. And don't sleep through the call this time,_ he teased. _It'd be a fine thing if you were late to your very first class._

He left, drawing the curtain closed behind him, and Serena found herself alone with her thoughts. The illumination in her room, from a cluster of small, bright orbs floating near her ceiling, was beginning to dim, as it must be all throughout the Keep. She ought to sleep, she knew—but then the memory of the dream came back to her.

It had not, she was sure, been a normal dream. It was far too clear, too real; her dreams were always blurred and vague. In fact, that strange clarity was familiar somehow…

She was still trying to place the feeling when she drifted off to sleep—a sleep filled with blank darkness and a faint hum almost beyond hearing.

It was not the call to breakfast that woke her, although it sounded soon after he opened her eyes; nor was it the brightening of the light orbs near her ceiling, for that had been happening gradually for quite some time. Something was softly tickling her stomach.

Serena gasped and jerked upright, caustic words rising to her lips for whoever had let themselves into her room, but she swallowed the exclamation as she caught sight of a large red-and-violet fish with gold rings through its fins, darting into a corner in fright at her sudden movement. It was Fuchsia, the fish that Regati had given to her as a pet; it had apparently been delivered to her room while she slept. When she made no further sudden movements, it came out of the corner and took up its favorite pastime, trying to eat her hair; Serena giggled and stroked its back, then went to the wall net that contained her clothing and selected a bright purple wrap that suited her suddenly playful mood.

Today was a day to celebrate—she was beginning her training as a Siren, after all! She did miss Regati, but she put that out of her mind as best she could; she'd be seeing him again soon.

Closing the curtain carefully so that her pet wouldn't follow her, Serena glided down the corridor and up through the floors to the dining hall, following the general flow. Merfolk swam in pairs and small groups, talking softly among themselves and often singing. Serena saw the results of some songs—small dancing lights, or hair that tangled itself in knots for its owner to untie—but others puzzled her, and she found herself longing to know the purpose of the haunting melodies.

Breakfast was a largely informal affair; the Sireni mingled with the students, and there seemed to be little ceremony involved. But Serena could easily pick out the members of the Council of Nine, in a circle near the center of the room which only a few others dared to approach.

She ate quickly, trying not to taste the sections of weed-wrapped fish, and tried to absorb the entire scene all at once. The Sireni were distinguished from the students by the strands of pearls they wore—the more accomplished, the finer and more abundant the gems. It also seemed that they were separated by colors—those wearing blue-tinged pearls seemed to congregate together in one part of the room, those wearing pink in another, gold in another; the Council, now that she knew to look for it, were all adorned with thick ropes of black pearls. But the groups were by no means exclusive; Sireni wearing all colors were dispersed throughout the room, chatting comfortably with each other.

Serena finished the last bit of her meal and then hurried up through the floors to the Hall of Voices. Seflo was right; it would have been really careless of her to be late to her very first lesson.

She needn't have worried, though; the Hall was empty when she arrived, and she guessed that Seflo must still be eating. She settled in to wait, her eyes drinking in her surroundings. The Eye of the Keep held her interest for a little while; but soon she grew tired of staring at the unchanging black stone, and her gaze drifter to the tapestries and mosaics that lined the room. The blue curves had appeared very uniform at first, but as Serena stared at the swirls and eddies, her mind began to form them into images. Here was a fish poking its nose out of a stand of seaweed, like several of the crystal figurines that she had left in her old dwelling outside the Keep; there was a great tree, branches all swept to one side by years of constant wind. It was almost as good as cloud pictures, she thought; but it would be better if the images moved and changed, rather than staying static.

_You must be very eager to learn what I have to teach you._ Serena gasped and spun around; Seflo grinned as he came up from the floor below. _Have you been waiting long, Nah?_

_No,_ she sighed, trying to calm her racing heart. She had been startled by his appearance, and she could have kicked herself if she'd had legs to do it; she already knew he was coming! It was this thrice-cursed Peace, starting to creep up on her again. How did it always manage to take her unawares?

_Good. Are you ready to start?_ He floated just in front of her, smiling expectantly.

_As ready as I'm going to be,_ she told him with a nervous chuckle.  
_  
All right, then. I thought this would be a good place for your first lesson, since it's usually empty. What I'm going to do is give you a few simple notes to sing, and we'll see how your voice is. Can you do that?_

Serena nodded, and Seflo uttered a snatch of unearthly music. It was, as he said, much simpler than most Siren song she had heard before; but it was still elusive and subtle, and it took several repetitions before she caught enough of it to try herself.

Several tiles in the mosaics above and below her splintered with an audible crack; Serena and Seflo both winced.

_That, ah… was interesting,_ he murmured. _Your voice is… strong… Maybe try it a bit more quietly for now?_ He did not add, but Serena still heard, 'until you can carry a tune'. She blushed deeply and made her next attempt in hardly more than a whisper.


	22. Chapter twentyone: Teleost

**Chapter twenty-one: Teleost**

It only took a few more cracked tiles and a torn tapestry to convince Serena that she was never going to become a Siren, but Seflo insisted on continuing the lesson until the call rang out for lunch. _It takes time, Nah. If you had gotten it immediately I would have been very surprised._

But you're also surprised by how bad I am at it so far, she countered, and his guilty silence was enough of an answer. _I can sing all right for a landwalker, but Merremin voices are as far beyond human ones as the sky beyond the sea._

But you have _a Merremin voice,_ he objected. _You just need to learn to use it. We are practically born singing, even those with no power as Sireni. Is it any wonder that it takes you a little while to learn? Besides,_ he added with a grin, _your voice may not be refined as of yet, but you have your share of strength._

_How comforting. Not only can I hit sour notes, but I can make sure everyone hears them, too,_ Serena grumbled, her scowl deepening when Seflo only laughed.

Despite her protests, the lessons continued. When he got tired of repairing Serena's 'mistakes' in the Hall, Seflo found them an empty classroom; when other Sireni complained of the noise, he moved them to one of the chambers below the storage rooms. Serena might have died of embarrassment, but she didn't have time—she spend every waking moment singing, until her throat was raw and she felt as though her chest would burst. The constant work was exhausting, and her sleep was the sleep of the dead; fortunately, Fuchsia seemed to know when she needed to wake, and would not leave her alone in the mornings until she was out the door.

This morning she lingered over her breakfast of—what else?—cold fish. The food was as unappealing as ever, but she ate slowly as she considered whether or not she was going to go to her lessons that day.

It seemed entirely pointless. She had made no progress despite weeks of her best effort; if anything, she was worse. A few days ago she had knocked a chunk loose from the ceiling, narrowly missing the two of them, and yesterday Seflo had gasped halfway through her song and abruptly suggested a break; he had left quickly, but Serena was certain that she had either disrupted a working somewhere in the Keep, or else she had hurt him.

She wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

So it was that she floated near one wall of the dining hall, picking bits of flesh from a fish she'd normally have discarded long ago, and staring unseeingly at the crowd of Sireni.

She didn't notice Seflo until he was almost upon her, but when she did, she winced. His hand was awkwardly wrapped in strips of cloth, but it didn't completely cover the patch of dark, blistered skin on the back of his wrist.

_You're running late, Nah. Did you sleep in?_ he asked cheerfully. 

_No._ The sight of Seflo's injury decided her; she was going to quit. She chewed carefully as she searched for the best words to tell him.

_Well, you should hurry. We ought to be starting your lesson now._  
_  
Seflo—I don't think we should. It's getting dangerous. _

_It's not--_ Seflo started to protest, but when Serena gave his hand a pointed look, he changed what he was going to say. _We're doing something a little different today, Nah. _

_Different?_ she asked suspiciously.

_Trust me,_ was all he would say on the matter.

So it was that Serena found herself swimming briskly to keep up with Seflo as he led the way to their practice room. She was already having second thoughts, but before she could give voice to her doubts, Seflo pulled aside the threadbare curtain and all other thought fled her mind as she saw who was waiting on the other side.

_Regati!_

_Little Siren!_ He laughed and caught her up in his arms. _I heard you've been causing trouble, so I came to join you. What are we going to break today?_

Serena suddenly became very interested in the smooth stone floor. _Nothing. I'm through._

_What?_ Regati's laughter died and his expression became deadly serious. _Siren-nah, what did you just say?_

_We can't keep this up,_ she said miserably. _I think we've proven by now that the Songs are beyond me. Every time I try, I end up hurting something—or someone._  
_  
We're just trying the wrong things,_ Seflo insisted. _That's why Regati is here. He has a theory—_

_It's not that there's anything wrong with your singing,_ Regati interrupted him.

_Oh, no?_ Serena challenged, suddenly angry. _So my Songs sound just as they're supposed to, then? What a joke! I'm seen Seflo's face when I sing-- even when nothing happens. Don't try to tell me there's nothing wrong._

But the reason you can't sing the Songs isn't because you lack the ability, Regati insisted, _You just need more understanding! You don't know what the Songs_ mean, _do you?_

Serena blinked. _What they mean?_

_It was my mistake,_ Regati said. _I taught you the one language, but I didn't realize you couldn't understand the other. _Everything_ knows the Song of the Water—everything that comes from the water. But you come from elsewhere. It's my fault. I should have seen it._

Serena could think of nothing to say to this. She stared at Regati, then Seflo, trying to comprehend. _Language?_ she finally managed.

_I should have known as well. I just thought you have a really strong accent._ Seflo made a face. _I thought the Water was mistaking your intent. But the problem was that you __had__ no intent, because you didn't know what you were singing._

_So the solution is simple, although it'll take a while. I'm going to teach you the meaning of the Songs._ Regati grinned. _I even get to stay here in the Keep to do it._

Slowly, dawn broke over Serena's face, and she couldn't help smiling as well. There was hope after all; the fear she had not yet dared to voice, that of never returning to land, was already fading.

_Then we should start._

Immediately, Regati agreed, and drew her further into the room as Seflo quickly wished them luck and darted out the door. _Now, then. Water's speech is very subtle; the 'words' can have a dozen different meanings. So it's very important to understand the context…_


	23. Chapter twentytwo: Salmon

**Chapter twenty-two: Salmon**

The Song whispered around her, growing steadily stronger. Serena could almost make out the words now, and she strained to hear more. She stood just at the edge of understanding, but something held her back, and she could not decide if it was because of the way the Song echoed in the great hall or because she didn't know the proper words yet, even after the months she had spent under Regati's teaching.

The Eye of the Keep stared at her blankly, and she fidgeted under that distracting gaze. If only she knew what was being sung! And where was it coming from? It almost seemed to emanate from the great seerstone, but of course that was impossible—the Eye was not alive, could not possibly have a will to be manifest through a Song.

Still…

She swam a few strokes closer, and the Song rose in volume. It hummed in the water around her; she could almost feel it, a faint tickle on her skin. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation wash over her, and reached toward the black surface of the stone.

_Wake up, little Siren!_

Serena jerked and looked wildly around. The lights were dim; it was later than she had realized. But she could still make out the empty, open space of the makeshift classroom. She was disoriented for a moment; where was the Hall of Voices? But then she cursed—not quite under her breath—as she realized that it had only been a dream. Another dream.

_Water and stone, Siren-nah, where did you learn to say that? _Regati struggled to sound disapproving, but he obviously thought it was funny.

_From you; where else?_ she grumbled.

_Ah, well, it could have been Seflo. He wasn't always so noble and scholarly as he is now. I could tell you some stories…_

When Serena didn't answer, but continued to glare at the wall as though it was her worst enemy, Regati grinned and swam in front of her to get her attention. _What's wrong, Siren-nah? You look like a snapping turtle about to bite someone's tail._

_It's nothing. I've just—I've been having these…_ She trailed off, realizing that she didn't know the Merremin word for 'dream'.

_What?_ Regati asked, and Serena endeavored to explain as they left the classroom and began the long swim up to their sleeping chambers.  
_  
You know—things that you see when you're asleep, that aren't real._

Regati only continued to look confused. _How can you see when you're asleep? Your eyes are closed. Is this a joke, little Siren?_

_No, it's—you mean to say you've never had a_ dream she asked, using the Aboveground word.

_And seen while I sleep? No, little Siren. This must be a landwalker thing._ His eyes lit with curiosity. _What is it like? What things do you see? Why does it happen?_

_I don't know why,_ she told him, _but it's like—just like being awake, except things happen that couldn't possibly happen in the real world, and you don't question them, because while you're dreaming they make sense. Sometimes dreams are good and happy, and sometimes they're bad and frightening._

De-reem, Regati muttered, trying out the strange word. Derrrreem. _So you have seen_ dereems _that trouble you, Siren-nah?_

_One dream,_ she grumbled, brushing away a strand of hair that drifted into her face, _over and over again. About being in the Hall of Voices, and the Eye of the Keep is calling to me-- singing to me, really. But I don't know what it's singing._

_That doesn't sound so bad,_ Regati ventured.

_No, but I see it so often, and I don't know why. That's the frustrating part._ They swam up to the next level and emerged just a few strokes away from Serena's door. _It doesn't really matter. I'll see you tomorrow._

_Good and early,_ Regati replied, and grinned devilishly at her groans. _Sleep well—and if you_ dereem, _I want to hear about it tomorrow, please?_

Serena laughed as she tugged her curtain aside and swam into her room. _All right. Sleep well, Regati._

But try as she might, sleep would not come to her. She fidgeted, drifting in the middle of her room, and thought about the water's language and Regati and Fuchsia asleep in his corner and the waves when they had first closed over her as the Sireni sang and the great black eye that watched her, always in her mind now as it invaded her waking thoughts as well as her dreams…

Frustrated, Serena tore open her curtain and stormed out into the Keep. The corridors were empty at this time of night; every Siren slept peacefully except for one apprentice who swam feverishly through the dark passages until inexplicably, inevitably, she floated in the Hall of Voices, glaring death at the seerstone that was at the root of her unease.

Serena had not tried a Song since Regati had first taken over her lessons; she still feared the memory of her last ill-fated attempt to work the Siren magic. But she must do something now or go mad, and there was no one here to get hurt should her singing go wrong…

Phrases swam in her head, half-formed memories and shards of ideas; she seized on one that glowed with promise, and began to sing of the shifting of tides. It was a thing unknown to the Merremin, living in this deep cavern with water flowing eternally one direction when it moved at all; but she realized as she sang that the Water knew it, felt the pull of the oceans both Above and Underground. That almost startled her to silence, almost brought the broken end of the Song, for how could there be such a forceful connection between the magical realm and the mundane one? But she continued and sang of the moon that pulled the tides, and the sun its twin, and day and night determined not by choice, as they were in this black realm, but by destiny, sure and steady, just as there were other, smaller fates that brought the flowers to bloom and the rain to fall and her to run the Labyrinth, forever warring with the black-hearted king…

But here she faltered to a stop, for the Water was no longer listening, had turned away with something like disgust. Her Song was rejected, would not be acted upon; she hadn't known that was possible. What had she done wrong?

The Eye of the Keep stared impassively as she turned her back and began the long swim back to her chamber and rest. But this was not the last time; she returned the next night, and the next, and the next…

Her days began to blur together and fade, the background for an endless train of fruitless nights. She sang dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of Songs in the empty Hall, but again and again they were denied. Her weary vigil took its toll; her mind wandered during the day, and she was never more than a stroke away from sleep or the Peace. She hated that strange rapture now more than ever, for though it refreshed her and brought her strength to continue her studies, it also brought the visions that tormented her, the great black eye watching, always watching, and the Song that she still could not understand. Sleep was better; here the blackness engulfed her completely, leaving no room for nightmares.

Regati and Seflo were worried; they persuaded, they pleaded, they lectured. What was wrong? Why would she not tell them? How could they help? But she batted away their outstretched hands. She was fine, just fine!

Every day was a haze, every night a torment. She had long ago lost track of time. Had she been here for months? Years? Millenia? Did it matter?

But then one night it did matter, for as she stared hungrily into the black surface of the seerstone, the last shards of her failed Song still hanging in the water, she glimpsed movement deep within—a pale spot against the infinite darkness. The Eye of the Keep sought to show a message. It was as though an alarm had sounded in the Keep, though no cry had been made; suddenly all were awake, and the Sireni flooded to the Hall.

Serena was too stunned and too tired to make any attempt to leave or conceal herself; she floated, waiting, as Merremin decked in pearls filed into the room, staring at her but making no comment. They took their places unerringly, for this was an event long rehearsed and now finally to be performed.

Last to enter were the members of the Council, with Tribelline at the rear. She swept up to Serena, regarding her silently as did every face in the room. Serena was too tired to be embarrassed or frightened or repentant, though dimly she registered that those were the emotions she ought to feel at the moment. She met the gaze of the Councilwoman steadily, if a little blearily, and waited for the older mermaid to speak.

_The Water has sent us a vision, through the Eye of the Keep; but it seems that it was a mere flickering, too swift to catch. No Siren saw what passed. Did you, Nah?_

_I did, Your Eloquence._

Serena tried to read Tribelline's face, but there was no expression written there. _What did you see?_ the Siren asked calmly, emotionlessly.

_It's time for me to return to land._ She had not fully understood until she spoke, but the words held the ring of truth, and now she knew what that pale shadow had been, could see it as clearly as though_ he_ stood before her: the Goblin King, laughing. 


	24. Chapter twentythree: Goose

**Chapter twenty-three: Goose**

It was not the Sireni that came to see her off; out of all the Merremin in the Keep, there was not one who called Serena friend. Even Seflo parted from her at the entrance to the Keep with only an awkward goodbye. She couldn't blame him. She had been nothing more than a disruption in the smooth flow of his life, quite literally a sour note in the chorus, and lately she'd been more withdrawn than ever.

Regati met her just outside the tower and took her by the hand. _Before you leave, little Siren, I have to show you something._ The familiar glint of mischief was back in his dark eyes; Serena felt some apprehension, but followed nonetheless.

He took her back to her own living chamber, deserted since she had come to live at the Keep, and held the curtain aside for her so that she could enter first. She did, rather confused until she saw the cave jammed floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall with Merremin. _Oh,_ she managed to say faintly before she was surrounded by the shopkeepers, fish-herds, artists, and children she'd come to know during her first days in the lake, those who had been so openly accepting of someone utterly different and far out of her depth.

Had she been on land, Serena might have cried at having to part yet again from these friends, but it was impossible to shed tears when she was already surrounded by water. Instead, she settled for a lot of hugs, well-wishes, and promises to return as soon as she was able.

Then it was time to go, and Regati was once more at her side, holding two packages wrapped in silvery fabric. _For you, Siren-nah.  
_  
The room suddenly went quiet with expectation. Awkwardly, Serena reached for the first of her presents. She felt it carefully; it was bumpy and about the size of her fist. _Regati, what…?_

_It's from all of us,_ he told her with a grin. _Open it._

She slowly undid the knot holding the wrapping in place; the cloth slipped away to reveal a pearl necklace unlike any she'd ever seen before. It was far too long: she could loop it three or four times around her neck; and each pearl was a different size, shape, and color.

She looked up in confusion, and noticed for the first time that each of the Merremin gathered around her also wore a strand of pearls—just one for each of them. Each and every necklace had a pendant added to it, one large pink pearl on a little loop of cord.

_Regati…_

_You have one pearl from each of us, and we all have one from you—I hope you don't mind I took apart one of your necklaces._ He grinned and, lifting the mismatched strand from her grasp, he wound it around her neck. _So you'll remember just how many friends you have here._

There were no words; Serena simply threw her arms around Regati, and was soon enmeshed in a tangle of arms and fins as the other Merremin joined them. Then they were backing away, and Regati pressed the second gift into her hands. _This one is from me. You should open it later,_ he said quietly. Serena was confused, but she hung onto the little bundle as another round of goodbyes began.

Too soon, Merremin were flooding out her door, and only Regati was left to help her gather the few things she could take and stow them in an eel-skin pouch. She settled the strap over her shoulder and turned to leave, but hesitated in the doorway. _I don't want to leave, Regati._

_No?_ he asked lightly. _Don't you miss land and all the things you told me about—sky and sun and cooked food and running and flowers?_

_Of course—you're right. Never mind._

It would sound silly if she tried to explain how peaceful things were here in comparison to the way they were on land; how she was always fighting up there, while under the lake she could rest. But Regati took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, and she had the feeling that he understood.

The trip to shore was long; it would be several hours' hard swimming. They went to the edge of the foul water from the goblins' sewer, staying just out of reach of the disgusting taint, and made for a point just to the right of the gold crystal burning on the wall. They didn't speak, but the silence might well have been the best conversation Serena ever had; it was comforting just to have her friend near her.

Finally, the stone ledge came into view. Serena swam up and beached herself, trying not to injure her fins too badly; she was surprised but strangely grateful when Regati came up on the shore beside her. She had thought before that he must be uncomfortable out of water, but now she knew exactly how every bump in the stone dug into his soft skin.

They pulled themselves up beyond the reach of the tiny waves that lapped the shore and curled their tails under them so they could sit up and look around. It took Serena a moment to realize that the wall and the water should not be so clearly visible; she glanced around to see where the light came from.

_What are you looking for, Siren-nah?_

_What's glowing?  
_  
Regati chuckled. _You are, little Siren._

_What?_ Serena looked down at her hands. It was hard to tell at first, but the longer she looked the more it seemed her outline was blurred with the faintest haze of light. _How am I doing that?_

_Well, you're a Siren now, aren't you?_ He smiled. _I followed you once or twice at night. You have a truly beautiful voice._

Serena gaped at him. _Siren? But I never—never did anything to become one!_

_You made your own Song. That's more than any apprentice at the Keep can say. Only Sireni sing words whose endings they don't yet know._

_It didn't work, though,_ she said. _The Water didn't listen to any of my Songs._

_Well, it must have liked something you sang, because you have the mark of the Sireni on you. The light,_ he added at her questioning look.

_Hopefully it likes what I'm going to do next,_ she muttered.

Regati merely watched as Serena shifted herself into a more comfortable position. As an afterthought, she dabbled the edge of her fin in the lake. She had been thinking the entire way here on how to do this, and now she thought she had an answer.

The music that began to pour from her lips was not a Song; it was only the simple folk melody that she had performed those many months before to help the Sireni change her. But now she listened to herself and knew what the Merremin back then had heard—the choppy notes and incomprehensible words that were so unlike their own fluid chorus, and yet half-familiar…

But now she concentrated on the differences, the simplicity and brokenness and the meaning of the English words; and in her mind she began a Song that was a jarring discord with the melody, forcing the two apart, dividing the Merremin in her from the human and casting the former aside.

She knew the exact instant that it worked; her voice slipped down a few notes and became, by comparison, coarse and scratchy. Serena grinned when Regati jumped and looked suddenly away. When the last few notes of her song died, she nudged him lightly. _What were you expecting, dimwit?_ she teased. She still spoke Merremin, though the words sounded wrong on her very human tongue and she felt some chagrin at her sudden slight accent.

_Well, I was expecting it would be harder… and… I was also expecting that you would be clothed when you finished._

_Wha--?_ Serena brushed crimson as the meaning of his words sank in, and she realized how very cold and rough the stone was against her bare skin.


	25. Chapter twentyfour: Tern

**Chapter twenty-four: Tern**

_~Stop laughing,~_ Serena muttered a few minutes later. _~You can turn around now.~_

It was lucky that Regati had felt like dressing up that day; the sash that he had worn around his waist was now tied as securely as she could make it around her bottom half. With the wrap she was still wearing from that morning around her torso, all the important parts were covered, but she still felt exposed, and besides, it was _cold_.

Regati kept a reasonably straight face, but his dark eyes still sparkled with amusement as he looked over her outfit. _~Very… interesting, Siren-nah.~_

_~Be quiet.~_

~No, really, it has a nice effect. I wonder what your Goblin King will think of--~

~Ack, don't remind me!~ Serena sat down and buried her face in her knees. _~I feel like enough of a fool already. I didn't even think about… this.~_ She peeked out at him; he was grinning fit to bust. _~Out of curiosity, what happened to my other clothes when the Sireni first changed me?~_

~Well, that… thing… that you wore on bottom?~

"Pants."

_~The_ pants _tore apart when your fins grew. And the… top thing?~_

"Shirt."

_~It was completely twisted around you. Melnone almost had to cut it off. As it is she ruined some of the—little round things?~  
_  
"Buttons."

~Buh-tonz. _That is a strange word._ Buh-ton-zuh… _What is a_ buh-tonz _for?~_

~Button. _Just one is called a_ button. _It's a way to fasten clothing instead of tying it.~_

~I… see…~

~No you don't.~ Serena smiled faintly.

_~You're right, I don't,~_ he admitted with a rueful grin. _~But that's all right. So what will you do now, little Siren?~_

~Well, last time I got out of this cavern by crawling up a drain pipe…~

~A what?~

~A… a tunnel through the rock, but small and narrow, for garbage and filth. That's what makes the _water at this side of the lake so disgusting.~_

~Oh.~

~But it was a long climb, and the smell was awful, and I couldn't even get out at the end without help, and aside from all that, it came up in the middle of the Goblin King's castle. So I'd rather find another way out, if I can.~ Serena stood and looked along the shore; it was hard to see anything, because her Siren light had gone out when she changed, but she could clearly see the small triangle of glowing crystals that marked the end of the drainpipe. _~I'll start looking there.~_

~Then we have to part ways now, don't we?~ Regati shuffled awkwardly toward her, and Serena hastily closed the distance between them lest he hurt himself dragging his body over the rock.

_~Yes. Thank you so much. I—have never been so happy as I was here.~_ She wrapped her arms around him, and Regati returned the embrace.

_~I'll miss you, Siren-nah… but there's something that might make your absence easier.~_ He grinned up at her. _~You should open your present now.~_

~Oh!~ Serena had entirely forgotten the cloth-wrapped bundle so carefully stowed in her bag. She dug it out and tugged at the knot, exposing an orb of polished black stone. She stared at it, transfixed. _~This looks like…~_

~There are two. I have the other, at home.~ Regati was almost bursting with that particular brand of mischief that made him seem decades younger. _~I found them in the deep rooms of the Keep, when I was a child.~_

~And what were you doing in the Keep?~ Serena asked, returning his grin.

_~Ah, well, I can't recall exactly—me being so old and senile and all-- but I might have been there on a dare…. Anyway, if you hold the stone in your hands and sing into it, whoever has the other one can see your face and hear your song, and can answer you back.~_ He took on an expression of mock sternness. _~Now, you must promise to speak to me every day.~_

~Only if I feel like it,~ she retorted jokingly, before bending to give him another hug. _~Thank you, Regati. Even with this, I'll miss you. I'll come back as soon as I can, I promise.~_

~Good luck, Siren-nah. Go teach those goblins a lesson!~

Serena nodded and stepped away; she set off down the shoreline as Regati pulled himself into the water behind her. She didn't dare look back, for fear she would lose her resolve, but she heard the light splash and the slap of waves as he slipped into the water and vanished.

There was no need for light at first; she had already examined every foot of wall from here to the drainpipe. So she followed the faint, glowing curve at the edge of the water, walking steadily into the darkness. The only noises were those of her own breathing and the motion of her bare feet, and beneath them, barely audible, the hiss of water rippling against the stone.

There was no way of measuring time here; it could have been minutes or hours or days that she walked, endlessly putting one foot ahead of the other. It wouldn't have been so bad, now, to slip into the Peace, as she would have when she was a Merremin and was set with a monotonous task. But she dismissed that thought. If she were in the Peace, then the dream would come on her, and she was in no mood for that.

Eventually, she came closer to the triangle mark and then drew even with it. It glowed sickly, covered with a thin coat of slime. Serena pulled a scrap of cloth from her bag—the one that the miniature seerstone had been wrapped in—and wiped away the muck so that the crystals shone brightly once more—they would be no good to her in the future if she couldn't see them. Then she dug once more in her bag and produced a small crystal fish, one of the figurines Regati had given her. It was the best she had at the moment for making light; she poured her power into it.

It turned out better than she expected; such smooth, flawless crystal easily gave a clear, steady light. Interestingly, though, it gave no heat at all. Serena wondered about that, whether it was because of the crystal itself or because she was getting better with her magic.

Holding it out ahead of her, Serena continued, this time scanning the walls for any opening. She passed the drainpipe quickly, trying not to step in the muck or linger too long in the nauseating smell; but it faded behind her as she moved on.

The walls were as smooth as ever, broken only by the starlike scattering of crystals. Serena walked until the mark of the sewer pipe began to fade with distance; then she lit another crystal, a dull reddish one that reminded her faintly of Mars in the night sky.

The silence was unnerving, but she hesitated to break it; it held her almost spellbound. She was growing tired, too; if she didn't find something soon, she was going to need to lie down and sleep. That was a depressing thought; she didn't want to spend the night here with the darkness pressing around, a rock for her bed, and only fish for food. At least she could cook it this time, though. That thought cheered her. Next time she came to the lake, she was going to bring landwalker food with her, that was certain.

The red crystal dimmed behind her, and she marked another, then sat with a sigh. She could go no further tonight. She dug in her bag for a fish, carefully gutted and wrapped in seaweed, and then placed her hands on the stone and willed it to heat. Soon her meal was sizzling merrily as she lounged idly nearby, as comfortable as she could make herself on the rough stone. After eating, she laid down with magically warmed stone beneath her and her pack for a pillow, and slept.

There was no way of telling morning or night here, away from sun and moon and the strangely constant schedules of her friends in the lake. Serena slept until she was not tired, then ate until she was not hungry, then walked again into the darkness with her crystal fish in her hand.

She made another mark, then another before she stopped to eat and rest a bit; after that, she continued. The journey seemed endless, timeless. Her thoughts ranged far, flitting as lightly as a bird from one topic to the next, with little meaning to be found in any of it. Never was there a break in the wall. She marked yet another crystal. How many was that now? Five since the drainpipe, and two before it, plus the pipe itself: that made eight tiny stars in the black cavern, seven stretches of unbroken night. It would be the worst sort of irony if she came full-circle; if she found herself suddenly staring at a tiny point of blue, far ahead. She shrugged off that thought. At least then she'd know where she was, know what was to be found in the wide cavern. Besides, there was always the drainpipe.

Such thoughts disappeared as her light fell on a break in the wall. She squinted ahead, hurrying a little. That shadow might be a stain, or a shallow depression, or perhaps…

…a doorway. She stood before it, looking up in awe. It was perhaps ten feet tall, and nearly as wide, a sharply rectangular opening hung with a faded red-brown curtain of a very coarse weave. The stone of the doorway itself was as smooth as silk, outlined simply and cleanly against the rough rock wall. A path was worn in the floor, a slight depression that led from the door to the edge of the water, suggesting many years of use.

Serena eagerly went to the wall and reached to touch a crystal, but paused, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Would whoever had made the doorway object to her marking it?

She was still debating with herself when she heard heavy, shuffling footsteps from the other side of the curtain.


	26. Chapter twentyfive: Pigeon

**Chapter twenty-five: Pigeon**

Her first impulse was to run, but even as her legs twitched in anticipation, she wondered where she could run to. There was flat, open stone and there was water; neither offered a place to hide. So she pressed herself against the wall beside the door and hoped very much that whatever was coming was blind in its left eye.

There was a rustle as the curtain was drawn aside; Serena held her breath. Then a few more shuffling steps brought the creature into view.

Serena blinked and stepped away from the wall. "Kitt?"

"Hunh?" The beast turned slowly toward her, smiling. "You... Serena?"

"Yes! How did you get here, Kitt?" She darted forward to hug her friend, but the beast took a step back. "What's wrong?"

"No Kitt. May." Her tone was sullen.

"What?"

"May. Name May. Kitt brother-daughter."

Serena had a hard time following the beast's slow speech, but eventually she worked her way through it, and she blushed. "Oh, I'm so sorry! May, is it?" She eyed the great creature uneasily; from her curved horns and squashed face, down to her reddish fur and stubby toes, she looked exactly identical to Kitt. 'Or at least,' Serena thought, 'I can't see the differences.'

"Yeah," the beast grunted, cheerful and pleasant. Apparently she had already forgotten her earlier affront. "Serena come?"

"Come where?" Serena asked, glancing back at the door. "Through there? Where does it lead?"

"Up." May offered one big hand, and Serena accepted it, smiling slightly when she saw how small hers was in comparison. She couldn't wrap her whole hand around two of Kitt's fingers! No, May's fingers, she corrected herself with some chagrin. What she was going to do if they ran into her other furry friend, she didn't know.

May went to pull the curtain aside, but Serena tugged at her hand. "Wait just a moment."

The beast turned patient eyes on her. "Wha?"

"Do you see that bright spot way down there?" Serena pointed to one of her markers. "That's a crystal in the wall. I made it glow, so I can find my way when I come back here. Can I do the same to one by this door?"

May squinted at the far-off light; then she tilted her head slightly, and brought her free hand up to cup around one enormous, floppy ear.

Serena fidgeted as the silence grew. She was about to say something when May's hand dropped and she turned to Serena. "No," she said simply, and pulled aside the curtain once again.

Serena was surprised. "All right, but… can I ask why?"

"Itchy." They had started down the passage now; it was as perfectly rectangular and smoothly polished as the doorway, and the stone underfoot was worn down.

Serena's brow furrowed. Surely she had heard wrong. "Itchy? What do you mean?"

"Stone itchy. Crystal moves."

"The stone… is itchy," Serena repeated, trying out the words. Then she shook her head. "Can stone even feel anything?"

"Sure." May trailed her gigantic fingers along the stone wall. "Rocks feel. Rocks talk." She beamed proudly. "Rocks friends."

"You can talk to the rock?"

May nodded. "Yeah."

"How?"

May glanced at Serena, then stopped and looked around them at the stone hall. Serena watched her carefully as she focused on one particular patch of wall. She was very still for a moment; then she opened her mouth and let forth a deep howl that echoed in the corridor and reverberated in Serena's very bones. There was a shifting, grinding sound, and a section of the wall, perfectly circular and about the size of Serena's head, twisted itself out and fell with a crash to the floor.

Serena gaped for a moment at the stone, torn without hands from the living rock and as smooth as though it had been polished; then she turned her wondering gaze on May. "That was amazing!"

May bent to pick up the section of stone and slid it back into the wall; when she removed her large hands, the surface was once again perfectly even, without a hint of a line to show that it had been so recently cut away. Then she took Serena's hand again, and they continued forward.

"So how do you do it, May?" Serena asked after a few moments. "Where did you learn to talk to the rock?"

"Papa rock-talker. May listen. May learn." She sounded quite pleased with herself. "Teach friends. Lots of rock-talkers now."

"If you taught your friends, could you teach me?" Serena asked.

May looked at Serena and shrugged. "Long time. Serena busy."

Serena sobered at that reminder. "Yes… I suppose I am. Do you know what the Goblin King is doing?"

"Magic."

"Yes, but what for?" Serena asked patiently.

"Dunno." She spoke even more slowly than usual, as though to someone incredibly stupid. "Rocks and crystals different."

"Oh… okay."

Serena felt mildly resentful that a creature who couldn't even string together a coherent sentence should make her feel like an imbecile, but she didn't have long to brood on it before she caught sight of a second curtain up ahead. Light slanted in around the edges, painting streaks of reddish-gold across the walls. Serena began to run, laughing with joy at the sight of sunlight after spending so long in the darkness, and May shuffled along behind her, smiling kindly.

The tunnel opened onto a patch of soft, mossy ground at the base of a low cliff, sheltered by leaning, weathered pines. The forest was colored with gold and the air filled with dust that sparkled in the shafts of light from the setting sun. Serena found a patch of sunlight and raised her face to it, opening her arms and sighing contentedly. She had forgotten how warm it was up here, how cold down in the caverns. Then she caught sight of her arms, sickly pale in the golden day, and sighed less happily. She was going to get a serious sunburn in the next few days, going through the Labyrinth.

That thought brought her back to the task at hand, and she looked about again, this time to get her bearings. She was somewhere in the enchanted forest, but she couldn't see any landmarks. "May? Where are we?"

"Home." May pointed through the trees, and Serena squinted, trying to see…

Great boulders rose up from the earth in a wide clearing, some easily twice May's height and thickly bearded with rusty moss and pine needles. They were scattered in a rough circle around a flat, open expanse of grey stone in the center, which was scored with deep lines.

The light was dimming and it was hard to say for sure, but as Serena took in the sight she could have sworn that one of the rocks—yes, there it was again! A few of the mossy stones were moving!

But of course, they were not stones. The great beasts heaved themselves to their feet, turning squashed, kindly faces on Serena and May as they came forward into the clearing. The two of them skirted around the largest figures—which, since they remained motionless, Serena thought must actually be boulders—and came to stand at the edge of the stone floor.

She turned slowly on the spot, taking in the sight. The large boulders, now that she looked, were hollow, with curtained doorways half overgrown with moss and reddish vines. The floor on which she stood was carved with a stylized star map, outlining all the major constellations of the Underground sky. The trees rose in a nearly perfect circle, screening the village from the view of outsiders. All was quiet and serene.

Then one of the beasts came forward with a grin and wrapped thick arms around Serena, who returned the hug with as much strength as she could muster. "Kitt! I thought you were working in the castle?"

"Yeah—Kitt come see family." She gestured to May—who, in Serena's eyes, could still have been her twin—and explained, "May father-sister. Aro father-brother," she added, pointing to a rather taller and more muddy-colored beast who had come to stand beside May. "And others," she finished, waving around vaguely.

Serena gave an awkward sort of bow. "It's good to meet you all."

They seemed satisfied with this; most shuffled back to their business. May walked away hand-in-hand with Aro, leaving Serena with Kitt.

"Kitt go back to castle. Serena come?"

"Yes, I think so," Serena confirmed. She did not want to confront the Goblin King, but what other option did she have at this point? He was up to something, and she couldn't help anything by hiding herself away. "Which way is it?"

Kitt led the way into the trees, away from the quiet sanctuary of the beasts' village and back into the Labyrinth.


	27. Chapter twentysix: Grosbeak

**Chapter twenty-six: Grosbeak**

The walk from the forest to the wide expanse of the junk-filled waste was surprisingly short; they had reached the wall of the Goblin City before the moon was properly up. Kitt led the way around from the main gate to a side entrance, which opened on a narrow path going almost directly to the castle, and they soon arrived without meeting a single goblin.

"I don't think that trip has ever been so—" Serena caught herself just in time. She had almost said "easy". What was wrong with her? She knew what kind of problems those careless words could bring!

She'd probably just been in the lake too long.

A side door into the castle opened on a narrow, plain stone corridor—a servants' hall, if Serena wasn't much mistaken. It was barely wide enough for Kitt to walk down without getting stuck, but she led the way confidently.

"Where are we going, Kitt?"

"King's rooms," was the reply. Serena contemplated it in silence. She doubted that the Goblin King was actually there—Kitt knew better than to lead her right to him, surely? But what purpose could the trip serve?

"Kitt—May said she didn't know what magic the Goblin King was doing. Do you?"

"Uhn… no."

Serena sighed. That would have been too much to hope for.

Then Kitt turned a corner, and Serena froze in the doorway. Stairs… stairs, all around, running every nonsensical direction, with gaps and bridges and ledges all hanging upside-down and sideways…

She clutched at the doorframe for support, unable to tear her eyes away, as her stomach lurched and her head spun. Kitt took a few more steps, then realized Serena wasn't following and turned to look at her. "Serena okay?"

"Is there… another way we can go?" Serena asked. Her voice sounded faint, even in her own ears.

"No… that bad?"

"I don't like this room." Serena finally managed to close her eyes, and she leaned weakly against the doorway.

She heard Kitt approach; then a massive hand wrapped gently around her forearm. "Follow Kitt. Eyes closed. Okay?"

Serena hesitated, then nodded and stood away from the door frame. Kitt tugged her gently out into the room of stairs—'Don't think, don't think about it, for the love of the Light…'—and led her away to the right, up a staircase, around a corner. She was very careful and patient, warning Serena of each step up or down in her deep, rumbling voice. At last she gently tugged Serena around in front of her and released her hold. Serena slowly opened her eyes; she could see nothing past Kitt's immense, shaggy form. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, but then she steeled herself and turned around.

Before her was one wooden door, surprisingly simple, with an unornamented handle of brass. "Um, Kitt-- this leads to the Goblin King's chambers?"

"Yeah," the beast grunted. "Kitt never go in, but Mizzy goblin told Kitt."

"We're taking directions from a goblin?" Serena asked dryly. _That_ wasn't likely to blow up in their faces, not at all.

"Nice goblin," Kitt said with a shrug.

"If you say so," Serena sighed. She reached for the handle, but paused before turning it. "It wouldn't be good for you if you got caught with me, Kitt. You should go now."

"Okay." Kitt rested one huge hand on Serena's shoulder for a moment; then she turned and lumbered off. Serena waited until she was well away before she opened the door.

She expected some shout or clamor or perhaps a gloved hand reaching out to grab her, but none came; the hallway beyond the door appeared empty. A long, faded blue rug ran past six identical doors on each side, ending at the foot of one last door at the end of the hall.

Serena held her breath as she tried the first door on her right. It opened onto a comfortable sitting room, with chairs that had obviously seen much use, a vase of flowers on a small table, and large windows looking out over the Labyrinth. Serena glanced around, but there was little to see; there wasn't even a fireplace. She confirmed that no other doors led off from the room, then returned to the hall and the door across from that one.

It turned out to lead onto another sitting room, this one smaller and more intimate. The legs of the three chairs were lightly carved and carefully polished, the rug spread on the floor thick and soft. Branches of candles sprouted from the walls, bearded with old red wax, and between them the round windows bore curtains of velvet.

Still, there was nothing to see in this room, either, and Serena moved to the next. It was a wide, airy room with a high ceiling and tall, slitted windows illuminating a collection of paintings and a few small sculptures. Serena had never had an opportunity to learn much about art, but many of the paintings were very beautiful, and she could not bring herself to leave without walking once through the gallery.

It puzzled her, why a man so thoroughly decadent and concerned only with him own whims should take pleasure in art. He was a king of goblins, surrounded by filth and reveling in it; so why should a bounding stag pursued by hounds hold any interest for him? What could he enjoy about a hilly landscape at dusk? Serena paused to stare at the statuette of a dancer, poised mid-step. What did the Goblin King think, seeing that figure, that made him want to keep it?  
She came to the back of the room, gave the last few paintings a sweeping glance-- and stopped. There was the Goblin King himself, looking out at her from the frame.

Or-- perhaps not. She stepped closer to study the painting. The man pictured here looked very like the king she knew, but he was smiling, laughing, as she could never imagine him doing. His hair was smoothed down, not wild and flying as Serena had always seen it, and was tied in a loose tail; his clothing, though rich, was a little more conservative than usual, though his shirt was still open to show the pendant resting against his skin. He stood behind a chair on which a beautiful woman was seated, a woman with a knowing smile and flyaway hair of strawberry blonde. Beside her, grinning shyly, was a boy.

Serena sucked in a breath. She had been wrong; the smiling king was not the enemy she knew. Though much younger and sweeter than the face she was accustomed to, she recognized the little prince. Under his baby softness, his features were sharp and angled; his cornsilk hair stuck up all over his head despite the obvious effort that had been made to tame it; and most of all, she knew those bright, mismatched eyes.

So this was Jareth, _prince_ of goblins. Serena shook her head in wonder, then returned her gaze to his parents. She saw the differences clearly now-- the king was older, with wings of white in his already-pale hair and a net of fine lines around his smiling eyes. His face was softened by obvious good humor; his stance was easy but elegant, much more refined than his son's. It was from the queen that the child had gotten his casual smirk and narrow features.

Serena stared for a while longer, then pulled herself away. Wouldn't it be just wonderful to have the Goblin King come on her gawking at a portrait! She hurried out of the gallery and into the room across from it.

Here was a room dominated by a large, elegant desk. Stacks of parchment stood at one side of it, with a few sheets scattered across its surface. Several fine quills in a gold stand, a filigreed bottle of what must be ink, and a shaker of sand were neatly arranged in easy reach. To one side of the room was fireplace; it was not lit, in this summer heat, but was filled with an arrangement of red and yellow flowers. Tapestries hung from the walls, showing colorful autumn woods; the bright colors lent a warm light to the room. A few chairs stood before the desk, but there was little else to see. Serena moved on.

The next room she tried made her breath catch and her eyes widen. Shelves lined with books ringed the room, covering every wall from floor to ceiling. The only gap was for the fireplace, filled with flowers like the first. Cushions were scattered on the floor before it, and a pair of comfortable armchairs stood to either side.

Almost before she knew what she was doing, Serena had a book off the shelf and was seated on one of the cushions. It was an old volume, smelling of dry parchment and ancient leather. After a few moments of staring at it, just relishing the feeling of holding a book again, Serena opened it.  
The script was beautiful, flowing like water across the page; but she couldn't read it. The characters were unfamiliar, not in any language she had ever seen. She scowled and pulled another book off a nearby shelf. Again, it was nothing she could understand.

Growling with frustration, she went to replace the two books- and stopped. There were no gaps on the shelves. Vainly she searched for the books' places; finally, she had to give up, and stuffed them under one of the cushions before making her hasty exit.

It occurred to Serena that she had no idea what she was looking for. When she had heard that the Goblin King was working some spell, she had rushed headlong into the very heart of his palace, with no notion of her objectives or any plan for leaving. She thought of navigating the room of stairs on her way back, and swallowed convulsively.

But she would cross that bridge when she came to it. She doggedly reached for the next doorknob and found herself in a wide, darkened room. There were no windows; the torches hanging in brackets on the walls were unlit. She dug in her bag for the crystal fish and lit it; the brilliant light cast stark shadows before her and left the corners of the room dark. Still, she could see that the room was furnished with long counters and benches, and that nearly every surface and most of the space underneath was occupied with a wild assortment of objects-- carvings of people and animals and figures somewhere in between, huge gems in dozens of colors, feathers from every bird she could name and many she couldn't, strange garments of silk and linen and fur, sticks and leaves of various plants tied in bundles, bowls and cups, rods of gold and crystal and lead and marble, books and rolls and scraps of parchment, scattered bones along with a few whole skeletons of small creatures, jewelry and ornaments, and row upon row of corked jars carefully labeled in a spidery hand. From the ceiling dangled bunches of herbs and long strings of glass beads. The bare stone floor was stained in many places with strange, bright colors. A thick layer of dust covered everything; small puffs of it rose into the air with every step Serena took.

It was a marvel; if she had a workshop for her magic, it would look much like this. Most of the objects in here, she knew she could use for some spell or other, and the rest she suspected she would_ find_ uses for if given long enough to work with them. Her fingers trailed across the surface of an age-spotted mirror, caressed the thick, soft winter pelt of a rabbit, shied away from the edge of a silver knife before convulsively clutching the hilt. A thousand things she could use this for, magical and mundane both; and wouldn't it just be spitting in the Goblin King's eye to use his own tools against him?

But she didn't pick it up; merely stood with her hand on it for several seconds. It felt wrong to take it. Never before had she experienced and qualms stealing from goblins-- indeed, she didn't think of it as stealing. But this...

Whose workshop was this, so long unused? The Goblin King would have no need of these trinkets; he used only crystals for his magic, and those he conjured himself. Her mind went to the beautiful queen in the portrait. _She_ had the air of power about her, certainly. Had she stood at this counter crafting her spells? Or perhaps some long-dead advisor to the previous king had woven his magics here.

Suddenly it was very cold in the workshop, the air still and stifling. Serena set down the knife and walked quietly to the door.

It was several seconds before she could bring herself to open the next door. She found little of interest-- a large bed, a comfortable chair, a small window, an empty closet, a small bath next door. The room lacked any personality; it was probably meant for guests. The next room, though much larger, had the same empty feel.

The next door she tried was a large bathing room, the tub-- or, more accurately, a small pool-- sunk into the floor. Serena did not envy the goblins that would have to carry the hot water up all those stairs; nor was she pleased to see the drain in the floor of the tub that obviously led to the Merremin's lake. Fluffy white towels hung on hooks along the wall; bottles of ointments and bars of fine soap lined the edge of the tub, with a long-handled brush lying beside them. Skylights in the high ceiling let in the moonlight, and the airy white curtains filling the tall windows billowed in the breeze.

Another door led from the bathroom, but it was locked. Serena left and crossed the hall, opening yet another door onto one of the most fantastic sights she had ever seen.

There were no walls in this "room"; not even a railing separated the end of the floor from the long drop into the Labyrinth below. The entire kingdom spread out before her like a carpet, pale and silent in the moonlight. Dozens of columns were scattered about to support the vaulted ceiling; but these columns were not of stone. The swirling patterns of wrought silver seemed to sprout like vines from the stone floor, rising to spread their tendrils across the arches above; and caught in the coils were hundreds upon hundreds of crystals.

Serena felt drawn to the shining pillars, but she hesitated to touch them; she merely stood, looking into the crystals. Most were still, but images flickered in some. Many were faint and faded; others were vibrant with color. Serena stared at one; a child, perhaps six years old, lay curled in bed, a doll clutched in her arms and her dark hair pooled across the pillow. An old man sat in another with spectacles perched on his nose, reading from a thin volume while a fire crackled in the background. A young man ran through a third one; the sun shone in this image, and as she stared Serena thought she could hear laughter.

She strolled through the columns, glancing into the brightest crystals. So many _people_. What were these crystals for? Some spell? It was highly possible; but then Serena thought of all the faces she had seen. Were they all under goblin enchantment? No, it didn't feel right. That wasn't the reason.

Then she saw a crystal that made her breath catch. She couldn't breathe as she stepped closer, the better to see--

A brown-haired girl standing in a room of silver columns, staring with disbelieving eyes at a brown-haired girl standing in a room of silver columns, staring at a brown-haired girl...

Serena tore herself away and took a long, shuddering breath. Had he been watching her? What had he seen? What had he _done_? Was she even now under his power?

No, she reminded herself; he couldn't possibly have all these people under some spell. As a matter of fact, there were so many crystals here; did he even know hers was among them? It was very possible that it meant nothing, nothing at all. And even if he was watching her, what of it? What could she do differently?

So she left the room of crystal columns, closing the door firmly behind her, and strode boldly into the room next door.

And yet again she stood in shock, staring around as the door closed behind her. There was beauty and then there was beauty, and this... It was so simple. No furniture, no ornaments, simply walls, ceiling, and floor of pristine mirrors. The joinings were trees and vines and flowers of gold; gold roots seamed the floor and gold branches divided the ceiling, and all around, again and again, Serena saw multitudes of herself standing in a forest of gold.

She stared, and again was assaulted by the feeling that this man was not at all as she had imagined him. What did he see when he looked in these mirrors?

That was an uncomfortable question, and Serena turned to leave, half hoping that the thought would stay behind, locked in this room of mirrors. Her fragmented reflection looked back at her from the one small, broken mirror hanging on the door. She rushed from the room, but couldn't rid herself of the image of her face overlaid by spiderweb cracks.


End file.
